Shang Loong Ma let out a phlegmy laugh as he looked over his daughter. On the one hand, he was furious at her for coming back to a war-ravaged island, but on the other hand, he had to admire her resourcefulness. She knew how to be invisible too, and she had proved herself braver than her brothers. “What are we going to do with you, now that you’re back? It’s too dangerous for you to go to Tyersall Park, you know.” He sighed.
“I’m going back to Tyersall Park whether you like it or not! I’m going to stay there and do everything I can to help anyone who is suffering and in danger.”
Su Yi’s father scoffed. “The Japanese control everything now. Where on earth did you get such an idea that you could actually be of help?”
“A priest told me, Pa. A young priest at the most beautiful temple on earth.”
* * *
*1 Actually, there are 1,444 pillars in the temple, which also boasts 29 halls and 80 domes in a 48,000-square-foot area. Built by a wealthy Jain businessman named Dharma Shah, construction of the temple began in 1446 and took more than fifty years to complete. If you are ever in Jodhpur, please do yourself a favor and head to this amazing place instead of wasting your time and money buying cashmere throws from charming merchants who claim they were “handwoven exclusively for Hermès” (or Etro, or Kenzo) “in a nearby village that employs 800 women.” They really weren’t, and Richard Gere wasn’t just there last week buying a hundred scarves either.
*2 Cantonese for “difficult, persnickety.”
*3 Actually, Bishop See is wrong about that. While Jains and Hindus agree on the concept of karma, the cycle of life and death, and some other aspects of emancipation, liberation, and release, they are two distinct and separate religions.
*4 Hokkien for “dick face.”
CHAPTER THREE
SINGAPORE
In all his years of working for the Young family as the head of security, Captain Vikram Ghale never had to deal with a situation quite like the one he now faced. Standing before him at the gates of Tyersall Park was Philip Young, the only son of Shang Su Yi. This was the man who had interviewed and hired him for the job thirty-two years ago, and this was the man who should have been his future boss had he not foolishly incurred his mother’s wrath two decades ago by inexplicably moving to Australia and losing his rightful inheritance of the house he had grown up in.
Normally, Philip Young’s hunter-green Jaguar Vanden Plas would have been waved through the gates without any hesitation, but the problem was the man sitting in the front passenger seat—Nicholas Young, whom Vikram had known since he was a little boy. Until about five years ago, Nicky was his grandmother’s favorite and the presumptive heir of Tyersall Park. He was, for all intents and purposes, the young lord of the manor. But now Vikram was under the strictest of orders not to allow entry to Nicky.
Vikram knew he had to handle the situation as diplomatically as possible. Knowing how mercurial his mistress, Shang Su Yi, could be, there was still a chance that she could change her mind at the last minute and reinstate Nicky or Philip as heir to the estate. For heaven’s sake, Philip’s initials formed the shape of the elaborate boxwood labyrinth in the gardens, and Nicky’s bedroom was still left unoccupied and untouched—exactly as it had been the last time he stayed there. Either of these men could very soon be his boss, and he mustn’t offend.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Young. You must see how my hands are tied. Please don’t take this personally,” Vikram said earnestly, casting an embarrassed smile at Nick.
“I understand. Tell me, who gave the orders?” Philip’s tone was polite, but his irritation was apparent.
Eleanor flung the car door open and climbed out angrily. “Vikram, what is all this nonsense? Don’t tell me we can’t go in!”
“Mrs. Young, as I was just explaining to Mr. Young, you are both more than welcome to enter. But I am under strict orders not to allow entry to Nicky. I checked again after he first arrived the other night while I was off duty. They said no, absolutely not.”
“Who are they? Who gave you the orders? Su Yi is a living vegetable right now—she couldn’t have said a thing to you!”
“Beg your pardon, Mrs. Young, but Mrs. Young is not a living vegetable!” Vikram sputtered.
Nick rolled down the window. “Mum, Dad, why don’t you both just go in and I’ll—”
“Shut up, lah!” Eleanor waved her hand in front of Nick’s face dismissively. “Vikram, how much money have you made on my stock tips over the years? Sino Land, Keppel Corp, Silverlake Axis. Hnh! I swear to God I am never going to give you a single tip again. I made you a rich man, and this is how you repay us? Mangkali kow sai!”*1
Vikram sighed, as he tried to find a way out of this quagmire. “Why don’t I call up to the house again, and perhaps you can speak to Miss Victoria directly?”
Philip had reached the end of his patience. “No, Vikram, I’ve had enough of this. This is my house too, and I will not take orders from my little sister! If my mother does not want to see Nicky, she can tell me herself. He won’t go into her room unless he’s asked for. But I will not have my son waiting by the gates like some sort of beggar. Call up to the house if you want to, but we are all going in.”
Philip returned to the driver’s seat and revved the engine. Vikram stood in front of the gray wrought-iron gates with his arms crossed, as Philip inched the sedan slowly toward the gates until the front bumper was almost touching the imposing guard’s knees. The other guards stood by, not sure what to do.
Five, four, three, two, one. Vikram counted in his head. Have I let this go on long enough? Philip was a decent fellow, and he knew he wouldn’t get in trouble with him. As far as he was concerned, there was no real security risk to letting the three of them in. It was just a family quarrel, and now that he had done his duty and put on a good show, he was going to get out of the way. He sidestepped the car in one easy stride and ordered his men, “Open the gates!”
Philip jammed his foot on the pedal angrily and zoomed up the gravel driveway at top speed. As the road curved toward the main approach to the house, the most curious sight unfolded before them. Assembled on the front lawn were several rows of wrought-iron chairs shaded by colorful silk parasols. Most of the family members staying at Tyersall Park—Victoria Young, the Aakaras, and the Chengs—were seated watching a doubles badminton match along with a few invited guests like Bishop See Bei Sien, Rosemary T’sien, and the Thai ambassador. Behind the seats, an elaborate ice-cream bar had been set up alongside a table dominated by an immense crystal punch bowl brimming with icy fruit punch.
Eleanor shook her head disparagingly. “So shameful! Your mother lies on her deathbed while everyone is outside having a garden party!”
“What are they supposed to do? Kneel all day by her bedside and chant prayers?” Philip asked.
“Well, the bishop is here! At the very least he should be inside praying for her instead of eating an ice-cream sundae.”