Chapter 21
21
Su Khoon wrapped up work just before seven, the evening before the pitch presentation to Freshview—early, by his standards.
“Go home,” he said to the team. “Get a good night’s rest.”
His staff had either been trained up to low expectations, or had the good sense to pretend. They looked appropriately grateful.
He glanced at Renee.
In the course of the past couple of weeks, there had grown up between the two of them what was not exactly camaraderie, but a functional alliance. Having a common objective to work towards, and being surrounded by witnesses who weren’t related to them, had smoothed over their interactions out of all recognition.
Renee knew Su Khoon better, now, than she probably ever had before. She’d learnt he played cricket— cricket —for fun; socialised mainly with his circle of friends from primary school; disliked his in-laws cordially, but rang his wife and kids twice a day every day. If he was seeing Eva, or any other girls, in the evenings after work, Renee didn’t ask.
She knew better than to think she could trust him simply because they weren’t actively biting each other’s heads off. But it was nice, not being at loggerheads with her own brother, the sibling closest to her in age.
She tried not to wonder what Su Khoon had learnt about her. When it came to her family, it was safest to assume they cared a lot less than she did about having a normal, amicable relationship. That wasn’t, in the Gohs’ view, what family was for .
“Dinner?” said Su Khoon. “I’ll pay.”
Renee smiled. “Thanks, but I’ve got plans for the evening.”
Su Khoon raised his eyebrows. “If you’re managing to squeeze in dates even now, I take my hat off to you.”
“No,” said Renee. “I’m going to go for a walk on Oxford Street, look in the shops, and choose one really nice thing to buy for myself.”
She couldn’t have said anything better calculated to endear her to Su Khoon, short of I’m withdrawing from the Chahaya leadership race and will help you sabotage Da Ge. It was exactly what he expected of a woman.
“Spending the money before you earn it, huh?” he said tolerantly. “Don’t break the bank.”
“I’m making no promises,” said Renee. “See you tomorrow morning.”
She took a bus instead of a cab. She wasn’t in a hurry.
Su Khoon’s joke had made her thoughtful. She was struck by his convenient amnesia about his bad behaviour. It was something she’d seen in both her brothers before, but it never failed to astound her. Of the two of them, Su Khoon was much likelier to be having a date tonight—if booty calls counted.
She was staying off men, at least as romantic prospects. But friends were a different matter. After all, men formed half the world’s population. It would be unreasonable of her to decide friendship with any man was out of the question.
And it would be nice to hang out with a friend this evening. She wasn’t nervous about the next day—presentations played to her strengths—but she was keyed up, vibrating with energy, with nowhere to put it. A good gossip over a good dinner was just what she needed.
She took out her phone and texted Ket Siong.
Hey, what are you up to? Free for dinner tonight? I know it’s super last minute but feel like going out on the town x
The x slipped into the message by accident. Renee texted x s to all kinds of people. It was one of the British social conventions she was trying to master, like asking people how they were without expecting a real answer, and paying for rounds at the pub.
But Ket Siong was not British, and had made no concession to the pressure to assimilate, so far as she could see.
Before she could get properly launched on tormenting herself over that x, however, Ket Siong replied.
What time? Just finished a class in Soho, so I could come meet you.
Renee’s heart rate kicked up a notch. Her original plan had been to get off around Bond Street and walk past the designer shops there, peeking in at the windows, before proceeding to Liberty. But she didn’t want to keep Ket Siong hanging around.
I’m heading in that direction right now. Going to stop by Liberty. Where do you want to eat? I can meet you at whatever restaurant?
Ket Siong didn’t message again, but he would at some point.
Renee got off the bus when it was approaching Regent Street. She walked up along its grand arc, untroubled for once by the tourists and shoppers clogging the broad pavements. She felt young, free, and unburdened, with an evening full of possibility ahead of her.
She’d buy a Diptyque candle. That would be a real treat. Renee didn’t mind splashing out on dresses or shoes or makeup, but she generally drew the line at candles: “You’re literally burning your money.”
“You are paying for the scent,” Nathalie argued. “And the flex.”
Renee would indulge in the flex on this one occasion, and then… she wondered what restaurant Ket Siong would suggest. There was a branch of the ramen chain she liked round the corner from Liberty. She used to patronise the very first outlet when they had opened years ago near Tottenham Court Road, dragging Ket Siong there to wait in the queues.
For the first time, with a pricking of her conscience, it occurred to Renee to wonder if Ket Siong had been able to afford all those restaurants she’d taken him to. He’d never said anything, but his family wasn’t that well-off. Presumably that was why he’d had to end his studies at the Royal Academy of Music prematurely.
She had tried to pay for him sometimes, back in the day, but he hadn’t liked it. He never got shitty about it—just shook his head, with that affectionate half smile. That was what she’d liked about Ket Siong. No matter what she did—sobbed at him for an hour about her family; hassled him about his janky old shoes—he’d never seemed to mind. She didn’t have to be on all the time with him, or dress a certain way, or pretend to be anything or anyone but herself.
She was glad they were able to be friends now. That was what really mattered, after all. Look at Nathalie. Their friendship had outlasted all of Renee’s romantic liaisons to date, and it was certainly healthier than her relationship with her family.
Don’t use me to justify this thing with Ket, said an inner voice that sounded remarkably like Nathalie. I told you I do not approve. Have sex with him, or block him. Don’t do this weird in-between thing where you’re secretly in love with him but you’re pretending it is nothing.
“I am not in love with him,” muttered Renee rebelliously. She glanced down at her phone to check how much time she had before Liberty closed, and heard someone call her name.
She knew who it was before she turned. Her heart sped up, warmth flooding the back of her neck.
“Hey,” she said.
Ket Siong was in a charcoal-grey peacoat, worn over a chunky black jumper and jeans, with an oatmeal-coloured scarf around his neck. Renee’s embarrassment wasn’t quite enough to save her from noticing how his shoulders stretched out that jumper. He looked good enough to eat.
He probably hadn’t heard her talking to herself. The steady blare of traffic on the road would have drowned her out.
“Hey,” said Ket Siong, glancing up the street. “I was going towards Liberty. Have you already been there?”
“Not yet,” said Renee.
She had twenty minutes before the doors closed. But the appeal of elbowing her way past tourists for the privilege of dropping sixty pounds on a scented candle was fading.
The idea of a steaming hot bowl of ramen, on the other hand… It had been unseasonably warm the past week, but today there was a bite of frost in the air. It felt, for the first time, like winter.
“But I’m hungry,” said Renee. “Let’s just go for dinner. Did you have any ideas about where you wanted to eat?”
Ket Siong had his hands in his pockets. There was something so restful about him, thought Renee, looking at his hands. It was the way he made no unnecessary movements, said nothing but what he meant.
“No,” he said. “Is there anything you feel like?”
“I was thinking of going to Kanada-Ya. They’ve opened one near here, did you know?” Remembering her inconsiderate youth, Renee added, “My treat, OK?”
Ket Siong frowned. “You paid last time. Let me cover it.”
Renee could fight. It would be the polite thing to do. Ket Siong couldn’t be earning that much as a piano teacher, whereas she was objectively loaded, even if it was a while since she’d had direct access to family funds.
“OK,” she said.
Ket Siong fell into step next to her. The Christmas lights were up, reliably magical in the glowing darkness of the winter sky. Glittering angels swooped over Regent Street, trailing sparkling webs of light.
Ket Siong was gazing up at them. Renee wondered what he was thinking. She opened her mouth to ask, but let out a jaw-cracking yawn instead. Tears stood in her eyes.
Ket Siong glanced at her. “Tired?”
Renee blinked away the wetness at her eyes. “Yeah. It’s been busy. Luckily my brother decided we should have some rest tonight. It’s the big day tomorrow. We’re presenting our pitch.”
Ket Siong nodded. “How’s it been going?”
He was asking about more than work. Renee shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. She had on a grey roll-neck cashmere-blend dress that had been, if anything, too toasty in Su Khoon’s rented offices, but it wasn’t enough to keep her warm now she was outside. The vintage 1930s silk faille coat she was wearing over it was far too light.
“It’s weird,” she said. “I keep wanting it to be more than it is.”
“More than it is,” Ket Siong echoed.
His eyes on her made her feel shy. She looked away.
“Yeah, you know. My brother and I have got a common interest in getting along, for now. We both want to impress my dad, and that’s what he wants to see. I know that’s all it is. But… it’s pathetic, but there’s a part of me that wants us to be friends.” She laughed, rueful. “It’s the same thing I wanted as a kid. Turns out I haven’t changed since I was six.”
Ket Siong said, gently, “It’s natural to want to have a good relationship with your brother.”
Renee shrugged. She felt too exposed to want to meet his eyes. So she looked at the shops lining the street, their window displays festooned with fake holly and ivy and pine, oversized baubles and bright tinsel, reindeer in neon colours with fairy lights tangled in their antlers. The mannequins were decked out in the usual array of dresses and jumpsuits for party season.
She made a mental note to check in with Louise about the arrangements for the Virtu office Christmas party. It was the only festive thing she did around this time of year. There was her birthday, too, a couple of weeks before Christmas, but Renee never did anything for her birthday. Before she moved to London, Dad had always insisted on a ceremonious dinner with all the family to celebrate the occasion. Those dinners—with her brothers sneering on one side of the table, and her mother on the other side doing a great imitation of a block of ice—had given Renee a permanent disgust of birthday parties.
At least nobody had to know when you had a birthday, so nobody expected you to celebrate. Christmas was different. British people especially got a little funny when they heard you were planning to spend it alone, though Renee enjoyed the quiet—just her and her TV, and the KFC meal she allowed herself once a year.
Maybe she’d do some volunteering over Christmas again, if only to avoid getting invited to Louise’s family’s house for the day. Renee would have accepted being Nathalie’s festive charity case, but Nathalie was obliged to divide her Christmas between her family in Paris and Jeroen’s in Antwerp: “It is like something out of Dante’s Inferno . I really think it will be the main topic of discussion at Thomas’s future therapy sessions.”
“How are things with your brother?” Renee said now. “You guys are close, right? I remember you used to call him and your mom twice a week, when we were at uni.”
“They’re OK,” said Ket Siong, with less enthusiasm than Renee would have expected. She gave him an inquiring look.
He was gazing down at his feet, his eyebrows drawn together.
“They’re fine,” he added. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”
“Yeah,” said Renee. “Family, huh?”
He smiled. Renee had to stop looking at him; he was too beautiful. This crush was getting out of hand.
Ket Siong was definitely the best-looking guy to have broken her heart, even including Jason. Also the nicest. At least the worst thing Ket Siong had done was change his mind about wanting to be with her.
At the time it had felt like the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but it was several steps up from some of her other exes’ greatest hits. It wasn’t Ket Siong’s fault if he was attracted to her but didn’t want a relationship. At least she knew now.
Do you know, though? said that annoying inner Nathalie voice. Sure, he dumped you ten years ago, but this time around he went home with you. And he wanted to keep seeing you after. You’re the one who said you weren’t looking for anything serious.
Nor was she, and for good reason. Renee wasn’t going to do this now, the night before a potentially life-changing meeting. She was going to have a nice bowl of ramen with Ket Siong and then she was going to go home by herself, watch half an episode of something brainless on Netflix, and turn in early.
“Oh,” she said, as they turned a corner onto the narrow street approaching the restaurant. There was a queue going round the building. “Sorry. We could go somewhere else?”
“You wanted to eat here,” said Ket Siong. “Let’s wait.”
Renee glanced back towards Carnaby Street as they joined the queue. The festive lights display this year was on a tropical theme. An arch made of leaping twin tigers loomed over the entrance to the street. Green palm leaves fanned out in a shimmering canopy; monkeys swung off the lampposts. There was even a Rafflesia, monstrous cartoony petals outlined in twinkling red lights.
“I need to take a selfie with that Rafflesia,” she said. The lights were less elaborate in the side alley they were on: glowing pink-and-purple bulbs, strung between the buildings. “The lights are so pretty this year.”
“Yes,” said Ket Siong, but he was looking at her.
Renee’s stupid heart skipped a beat. She averted her eyes and pulled her coat closer around herself, shivering.
“It’s really feeling like winter now,” she said. “You’ll have Christmas shopping to do, right? You guys celebrate.”
“We don’t make a big deal of the presents. It’s more about the food,” said Ket Siong. But he wasn’t interested in discussing his family’s Christmas traditions. “You’re cold?”
“It’s been so warm lately today’s taken me off guard.” Renee shook her head. “I should’ve layered up. British weather, huh?”
Ket Siong unwound the scarf around his neck, settled it on her shoulders, and wrapped its length around her neck, twice. Renee couldn’t look at his face, so she stared at his throat, her heart fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird.
His fingertips grazed the high collar of her dress, but made no contact with her skin. You could hardly call it a touch. There was no reason for her body to light up all over—as though he had run his hands over her; as though he had kissed her. But it did.
The scarf was soft, warm from the heat of his body. It smelt of him, a clean male animal scent.
Ket Siong’s Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. He gave the scarf a final twitch and stepped back.