Chapter 31
31
No one responded when Renee texted Dad, Su Khoon, and Jessie to ask what time they were leaving for the airport. But she had their flight details from Dad’s PA, who was acutely conscious of the fact that rebooking the flights at Dad’s demand meant they were leaving on Renee’s birthday. Miss Adibah already had a guilty conscience over all the times she’d cancelled birthday dinners and scheduled business meetings against school plays and graduation ceremonies. Getting the information out of her had been easy.
Dad liked to be at the airport early, so Renee turned up at the Chelsea house midafternoon, five hours before their evening flight back to Singapore. It was Jessie who opened the door.
“Oh,” she said.
Renee had come for reasons no one could fault, but there was no denying that Jessie’s expression was a reward for her effort. She’d never seen her sister-in-law quite so much at a loss before.
Renee smiled. “Came to say goodbye.” She raised a shopping bag. “I got some things for the kids. Nothing big. I thought they could play with them on the flight.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” said Jessie, recovering. “The kids will be so excited to see you. Kai made you a birthday card, we were going to post it. Guys, Gu Gu is here!”
Renee followed her through to the reception room, where Su Khoon’s three kids were watching TV. Dad was on the sofa, frowning over his iPad.
“Your brother’s upstairs,” said Jessie. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”
She slipped out of the room before she could be detained by either kids or in-laws, and who could blame her?
Dodging enthusiastic greetings from her nieces and nephew, who recognised the Hamleys branding on her shopping bag, Renee said:
“Hey, Dad. All packed?”
Without looking at her, Dad got up from the sofa, tucked the iPad under his arm, and went out of the room.
“Where’s Gong Gong going?”
“He’s going to get ready,” said Renee. She had been prepared for the snub, so it only hurt a little to watch him leave the room, back stiff with affront.
She knelt, turning a smile on the kids. “You guys want to see what I’ve got for you?”
Su Khoon came downstairs while she was distributing her gifts. It was their first meeting since it had been decided that Su Khoon would be CEO of Chahaya. He looked as dubious about having the pleasure of Renee’s company as Jessie had.
The kids’ presence was helpful. First it was necessary to mediate between the girls when they fought over which of the two nearly identical Disney Princess arts-and-crafts kits they wanted. Then it transpired the youngest boy had concluded from Renee’s sudden appearance that she was coming back to Singapore with them. Soothing him when the truth was broken to him consumed all of Renee and Su Khoon’s attention.
By the time Jessie and the nanny showed up to whip the kids away for a pre-departure snack and shower, any awkwardness was gone.
Renee said to Su Khoon, with feeling, “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Two helpers and a nanny,” said Su Khoon. “It’s like a bloody zoo.” He collapsed onto the sofa. “You’ve seen Dad?”
Renee inclined her head. “And he saw me. Didn’t talk to me, of course. That would be going too far.”
Su Khoon humphed. “Why’d you come? You know what Dad’s like.”
“I know. I thought he’d be more upset if I didn’t come, though,” said Renee. “Anyway, I haven’t congratulated you yet.”
Su Khoon slanted a suspicious glance at her. “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”
Renee met the glance head-on. “Is it working?”
Su Khoon looked away first.
“I hope you don’t think I’m going to apologise or whatever,” he said. “I told you from the start. Just because I’m working with you, doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to win. We were in a contest. Blame Dad if you want to blame anyone.”
“I’m trying not to,” said Renee. “Blame anyone, I mean.”
She gazed up at the family portrait over the fireplace. At least she hadn’t annoyed anyone badly enough yet to move them to cut her out of it.
There they were, five strangers crowded into one place, for the duration of a lifetime. She could step out of the picture, or she could try to make the best of it.
“I don’t want to do business with you,” said Renee, her eyes on the portrait. “But I want to have a relationship with my family.”
The teenaged Su Khoon in the picture was pale and lanky, eyes wary behind his glasses. She wondered if he’d got bullied at school. If he had, she’d be the last person he would admit that to.
It was a slight surprise when the Su Khoon of the present day spoke.
“I told Dad we should stay,” he said gruffly. “It’s your birthday and all that. And the kids haven’t had a chance to try Yauatcha. Ridiculous to rush off like this, just because he’s angry.”
“It’s OK,” said Renee earnestly. “Really. Don’t feel bad about that. I’ll take the kids to Yauatcha another time.”
Su Khoon snorted. “You probably don’t want to spend your birthday with us anyway.”
Renee didn’t bother denying it.
After a moment, Su Khoon said, “Don’t worry about Dad. He’ll get over it. You’re his daughter, at the end of the day.”
Renee nodded. She got to her feet. “You guys will want to sort yourselves out. I’ll leave you to it.”
She was at the door when Su Khoon said, “Eh. Renee.”
Renee looked back.
“Good luck,” said her brother. “With your new guy and all.”
“Thanks,” said Renee, after a pause. “You too.”
She paused in the hallway, hesitating. The stairs to the other floors were to her left, the front door to her right. She turned left.
Dad’s study was on the first floor. The door was shut. Renee knocked and opened it without waiting for a response.
Dad was at his desk, with the iPad propped up in front of him. His reading glasses were on his forehead. He adjusted them hastily, sitting up as she entered the room. She had the impression he hadn’t been doing much reading.
“I’m going now, Dad,” said Renee. “Have a safe flight.”
Dad stared down at his iPad, his mouth locked in a straight line. Renee lingered well past the point of discomfort—but if Dad didn’t want to speak to her, there was nothing she could do about it except wait him out. She’d done it before.
She was turning to go when Dad cleared his throat.
“You’re going where?” he said. He clamped his mouth shut, looking annoyed at himself.
“Back to the flat,” said Renee. “I took leave today.” For my birthday, she didn’t need to say.
She half thought Dad might acknowledge it was her birthday. But he just said, “Hmph,” resettled his glasses on his nose, and bent his head studiously over his iPad.
She felt it counted as a win, all the same. Descending the stairs, Renee decided she was glad she’d come.
When she got back to her building, it was to the somewhat surprising scene of Dragan hanging out with Ket Siong on the sofas in the foyer, chatting.
Ket Siong saw her first. He was surrounded by tote bags bulging with groceries. A leek stuck out of one of them. He said something to Dragan, who got up, clapping him on the shoulder. Renee got a nod and an approving smile as Dragan went back to his post.
It was a little weird getting more emotional validation from the concierge than her own father. Dad would say it was easy to praise other people’s children.
Ket Siong stood up at her approach. Renee could see that one of the tote bags had a bouquet of flowers in it.
“This is a nice surprise,” she said.
Ket Siong ducked his head. “You said you weren’t seeing your family for your birthday anymore. I thought I could make you dinner. If you want.”
Renee put her head on one side. “What are you going to do with all of that if I say no?”
Ket Siong considered his shopping, strewn around him. He appeared to have bought enough to cater for a football team. “My family could have it tomorrow. My brother’s taking my mother out for dinner tonight.”
“Come on,” said Renee. She reached out for the bags, but Ket Siong intervened before she could pick any of them up.
“I can manage,” he said, so Renee left him to it.
Ket Siong was unenthusiastic when Renee offered to help with the cooking, but he did allow her to snap the roots off the bean sprouts.
“That’s about my level,” said Renee. She took a picture of their shining white stems, heaped in a metal bowl on her marble table. It was the kind of thing her Instagram followers would go wild for, with its nostalgic associations with Chinese grandmas at work.
The flowers he’d got her were clearly visible in the background. A bunch of gerberas from Tesco, more cheerful than romantic, costing all of five pounds. She touched a bright pink petal and smiled.
That would pique interest, too. Let Instagram speculate. She’d do a soft launch of the new man in time.
Ket Siong was moving around her kitchen as though he’d lived there for years, taking out pots and pans and cooking utensils. Renee moved to the kitchen island so she could watch him better, bringing the bean sprouts with her.
“I didn’t even know I had a colander,” she said. “What are those? Cooking chopsticks? Those must be from Auntie Mindy’s time. How did you know where to find all this stuff?”
Ket Siong went pink. “I had a look the last time I was here. I used to wish I could cook for you, when we were students. Like Derek Lim.”
Renee laughed. “Derek said it was his secret weapon.”
“His food was OK,” said Ket Siong repressively.
“Ket Siong,” said Renee, charmed, “were you jealous of Derek?”
Ket Siong didn’t dignify that with an answer. He filled the kettle at the tap, put it on to boil, and said:
“I’ve been meaning to tell you. I sent in a video to that competition you told me about. I got into the next round. Auditions are in March.”
Renee’s eyes widened. “Ket Siong, that’s fantastic!”
That made him bashful. He drew his head in a little, like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. “We’ll see what happens.”
“This is a double celebration, then,” said Renee. “We should get cake!” She abandoned the bean sprouts, picking up her phone. “There are a couple of Japanese patisseries nearby. I wonder if they deliver… Do you like crepe cakes?”
“I got a cake,” said Ket Siong, nodding at the bags he hadn’t unpacked yet. “Nothing special, though. Pandan chiffon cake. I picked it up in Chinatown.”
“OK, that is my favourite kind of cake. Forget Japanese patisserie.” Renee put down her phone. “How do you know all the things I like?”
Ket Siong gave her a sidelong glance, smiling a little. But he only said, “If you want to have those with your noodles”—meaning the neglected bean sprouts—“you’d better keep working.”
“OK, fine, ” said Renee. She felt suddenly, absurdly happy.
They were quiet for a while, Ket Siong chopping vegetables—he’d even brought a knife sharpener with him—and Renee working through her pile of veg.
It was Ket Siong who broke the silence. “Did you manage to see your family?”
“Yeah.” Renee nipped the root off a bean sprout and tossed it into a bowl. “Dad’s pretty mad at me. And my brother doesn’t know whether to send me a Fortnum & Mason hamper or a turd in a box. But it was worth going.”
“They’re angry about the Freshview deal?”
“It’s not just that.” Renee paused. “You know, Dad’s devoted his entire life to Chahaya. He spent more time growing the business than raising us. He was asking me to take over his life’s work, and I turned him down. Of course he’s unhappy with me. I get it.”
Ket Siong said, “I wish your family put in as much effort to try to understand you.”
The look in his eyes made her shy. Renee looked down at her phone and saw a notification on the screen. “Oh hey, Nathalie’s sent a voice note. Do you mind…?”
She put it on speaker so she could keep going with the bean sprouts. Nathalie’s voice filled the room.
“Happy birthday, babe. I hope you have had a perfect day and got yourself a nice treat or three. My present is on its way, I ordered it online. We need to go for cocktails very soon, I have so much to tell you about my nemesis. Are you free next week? Let’s go to the Savoy, we need to cleanse it of Andrew’s presence. I will bring sage and sixty litres of bleach. Don’t worry about that yowl, it is only Thomas whose father is very cruel, he is giving him a bath. I have to go, but let me know when you can go for drinks, and I want to know all your news. How is it with Virtu and your family whom I hate, and have you started sexting with that knobhead Ket or are you still pretending you are just friends?”
The voice note ended before Renee could pause it. She bent her head over her bowl, avoiding meeting Ket Siong’s eyes.
“She really doesn’t like me.” Ket Siong sounded more puzzled than offended. It was probably a novel experience for him, being disliked.
“It’s only because she thinks you’re two-timing me,” said Renee. “Can I tell her about Stephen? If she knew you were having coffee with Low Teck Wee’s daughter that time, that might help. I don’t want her to hate you, if you’re going to be my boyfriend.”
This elicited a much stronger reaction from Ket Siong than overhearing himself being called names. He stiffened, his knife hovering midair above the chopping board.
“Am I your boyfriend?” he said.
“I have a vacancy,” said Renee lightly. “Would you like to fill it?”
Ket Siong put down the knife, wiped his hands on a tea towel, and came over to her. Renee was feeling a little too exposed to want to look at him directly, but once she glanced up, she couldn’t look away. Under his gaze, fearlessly loving, her levity seemed cheap, revealed for the flimsy protection against hurt it was.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered.
Ket Siong put his arms around her, drawing her close. She could feel the steady beat of his heart under her cheek. She closed her eyes.
“I’ll try not to,” he said. “I’ll try my best.”