I had been entertaining Debra Aronson, the publisher of Poseidon Books, at home in my wine cellar when the call came. You see, I collect contemporary Chinese art, and Poseidon has been trying to woo me into doing a coffee-table book on my collection. When my associate Dr. Chia called with the urgent news from Tyersall Park, I immediately said, “Do not resuscitate.” I knew it would be hopeless. There’s been so much scarring to her heart, it would be pointless to try and revive her. It’s her time to go. None of this came as a surprise to me. In fact, after looking at her stats the previous morning during that fabulous crepe breakfast, I was surprised that she was even able to get out of bed. Her heart rate, her blood pressure, her ejection fraction—everything was off the charts. But you know, I’ve seen this happen time and again. In the day or two before a patient passes, they can experience a sudden spurt of energy. The body rallies, as if it knows that this will be the last hurrah. The minute I saw Su Yi appear at the breakfast table, I surmised that this was happening. After all this time, with all the medical advances we’ve made, the human body is still an unfathomable mystery to us. The heart most of all.
ALEXANDRA “ALIX” YOUNG CHENG
Youngest Daughter
I was in the library with Fiona and Kalliste, showing Kalliste my Enid Blyton first editions, when the dogs started howling. It must have been around half past three in the afternoon. It wasn’t just our pack of Alsatians that patrol the grounds, but it seemed like every dog within a two-mile radius was making restless, high-pitched yelps. I gave Fiona a look and she knew exactly what I was thinking. She left the library without a word and went upstairs to check on Mummy. By now the howling had stopped, but I remember feeling enveloped by a sense of dread. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I kept staring at the door. I was somehow willing Fiona to not come back through those doors. I didn’t want to hear any bad news. I was trying to focus on Kalliste, who wanted to know if she could have the entire Malory Towers series—they were her favorites too when she was younger. Then Fiona came back in and I just froze until she smiled. “All’s well. Auntie Cat is with her,” she whispered to me. I was so relieved, and we went back to the stacks. About an hour later, Ah Ling came rushing into the library to tell me to get upstairs. The look on her face told me everything. You see, the dogs knew all along. They could sense it coming.
CASSANDRA SHANG
Niece
I was in bed at Harlinscourt, reading the latest Jilly Cooper novel when my phone began to vibrate on silent mode. I recognized the number immediately—it was Deep Throat, my spy at Tyersall Park. (Of course you knew I had an inside source at that house. It would be so foolish of me not to.) At first, Deep Throat simply said, “Boh liao.”* I said, “What do you mean boh liao?” Deep Throat was overly excited, but she managed to get it out: “Su Yi just died. Big fight upstairs right now. I must go.” So of course the first thing I did was call my father. I said, “Are you at Tyersall Park?” He said, “Er, no.” I think I caught him at his mistress’s apartment—he was very out of breath. So I said, “You better head over there now. Something just happened to your sister.”
LINCOLN “AH TOCK” TAY
Distant Cousin
Great-uncle Alfred called me. I think he was on his way to Tyersall Park. He said to tell everyone on my side of the family that Su Yi had just passed. But he didn’t want any of us at the house tonight. “Tell your father to stay home, and I’ll let you all know when to come. Tonight is just for the family.” As if we’re not part of the family, fucking bastard! Then he said, “Better start ordering the tents and folding chairs. We’re going to need a lot of them.” I was still at Irene Wu’s house trying to acclimate the damn fish back into the tank, so I told her the news and she started to lose it. “Oh no! Alamak! How to face Astrid?” she cried, fleeing to her bedroom. I went back into the living room and when I saw Astrid sitting there pouring tea like Princess Diana, I realized the spoiled bitch didn’t have a clue that her grandma had just kicked the bucket. Kan ni na, I had to be the one to tell her. Of course she was in total shock, but I don’t feel sorry for her one bit. She’s now instantly a million times richer than she already is.
VICTORIA YOUNG
Third Daughter
The first thing that came into my mind when I saw her lying there with Eddie crying over her body hysterically was: Thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus. She has been released, and so have I. I’m free at last. Finally free. I numbly put my hand on Alix’s back, and tried to rub it soothingly while she stood looking at Mummy. I thought I might cry, but I didn’t. I looked over at Cat, who was sitting in the armchair still holding Mummy’s hand, and she wasn’t crying either. She was just staring out the window with a rather odd look on her face. I suppose we must have all looked rather odd that day. I started to consider the curtains—Mummy’s curtains with the point d’Alen?on lace trim, and I began to imagine how they would look in the front windows of the town house I would buy in London. I could really see myself moving to one of those lovely town houses in Kensington, perhaps on Egerton Crescent or Thurloe Square, just a stone’s throw from the Victoria and Albert. I would use the V&A’s glorious library every day, and go for afternoon tea at the Capital Hotel or the Goring. I’d attend All Souls Church every Sunday, and maybe even start my own Bible-study fellowship. I could endow a chair in theology at Trinity College, Oxford. Maybe I could even convert an old rectory in some charming town in the Cotswolds. Someplace with a particularly smart and handsome clergyman like that Sidney Chambers in Grantchester. Goodness me, one look at him in that stiff clerical collar and I go weak in the knees!
MRS. LEE YONG CHIEN
Chairwoman Emeritus of the Lee Philanthropic Foundation, Su Yi’s Mah-jongg Kaki