1
Tyersall Park
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SINGAPORE
“Colin and I would speed down this slope on our bikes, hands in the air, seeing who could go the farthest without touching the handlebars,” Nick said as they were driven up the long winding driveway to Tyersall Park. Arriving here with Nick was an entirely different experience for Rachel from her first time with Peik Lin. For starters, Nick’s grandmother had sent a gorgeous vintage Daimler to pick them up, and this time Nick was pointing things out along the way.
“See that enormous rambutan tree? Colin and I tried to build a tree house in it. We spent three days working in secret, but then Ah Ma found out and was furious. She didn’t want anything to ruin her precious rambutan fruit and forced us to dismantle it. Colin was so pissed off, he decided to pluck down as many of the rambutans as he could.”
Rachel laughed. “You guys got into quite a bit of trouble, didn’t you?”
“Yep—we were always getting into scrapes. I remember there was one kampong nearby we would sneak into to steal baby chickens.”
“Little rascals! Where was the adult supervision?”
“What adult supervision?”
The car pulled up to the porte cochere, and several servants emerged from a side door to remove their luggage from the trunk. The Indian butler came down the front steps to greet them.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Young, Miss Chu. Mrs. Young is expecting you for tea. She’s in the star-fruit grove.”
“Thanks, Sanjit, we’ll head there now,” Nick said. He guided Rachel past the red flagstone terrace and down a graceful allée, where white acanthus and colorful bursts of hibiscus mingled with lavish thickets of Egyptian papyrus.
“These gardens are even more glorious in the daytime,” Rachel remarked, running her fingers along the row of papyrus stalks swaying gently in the breeze. Enormous dragonflies buzzed about, their wings sparkling in the sunlight.
“Remind me to show you the lily pond. We have these enormous lily pads there—Victoria amazonica, the largest in the world. You can practically sunbathe on them!”
As they approached the grove, a most curious sight awaited Rachel: Nick’s ninety-something-year-old grandmother stood at the top of a wooden ladder that leaned precariously against the trunk of a tall star-fruit tree, painstakingly fussing over some plastic bags. Two gardeners stood at the foot of the rickety ladder, holding it steady, while a Gurkha and the two Thai lady’s maids looked on placidly.
“Sweet Jesus, she’s going to fall off that ladder and break her neck!” Rachel said in alarm.
“This is Ah Ma’s thing. There’s no stopping her,” Nick said with a grin.
“But what exactly is she doing?”
“She inspects every single one of the young star fruits and wraps each of them in their own plastic bags. The humidity helps them to ripen and protects them from birds.”
“Why doesn’t she let one of the gardeners do it?”
“She loves doing it herself—she does this with her guavas too.”
Rachel stared up at Nick’s grandmother, immaculately dressed in a crisply pleated yellow gardening smock, and marveled at her dexterity. Su Yi looked down, noticing that she had a new audience, and said in Mandarin, “One minute—I just have two more to do.”
When Nick’s grandmother had safely descended the ladder (much to Rachel’s relief), the group proceeded down another pathway that led to a formal French walled garden where a profusion of African blue lilies were planted amid perfectly manicured boxwood hedges. In the middle of the garden stood a jewellike conservatory that appeared to have been transported straight out of the English countryside.
“This is where Ah Ma cultivates her prizewinning orchid hybrids,” Nick informed Rachel.
“Wow,” was all Rachel could say as she entered the greenhouse. Hundreds of orchid plants hung on different levels throughout the space, their subtle sweetness permeating the air. Rachel had never seen this many varieties—from intricate spider orchids and vividly colored vandas to the magnificent cattleyas and almost indecently suggestive slipper orchids. Tucked in the middle of all this was a round table that appeared to have been carved out of a single block of blue malachite. Its base consisted of four majestically fierce griffins facing in different directions, each poised to take flight.
As they made themselves comfortable on the cushioned wrought-iron chairs, a trio of servers appeared as if on cue, bearing an enormous five-tiered silver tray laden with delectable nyonya kuehs, finger sandwiches, gemlike pâte de fruits, and fluffy golden-brown scones. A tea cart was rolled toward them by one of the Thai lady’s maids, and Rachel felt like she was hallucinating as she watched the maiden delicately pouring freshly steeped tea from a teapot intricately carved with multicolored dragons. She had never seen a more sumptuous tea service in her life.
“Here are my grandmother’s famous scones—dig in,” Nick said gleefully, licking his lips.
The scones were still warm as Rachel broke one apart and slathered it with a generous helping of clotted cream, just as she’d learned from Nick. She was about to put some of the strawberry jam onto the scone when Su Yi said in Mandarin, “You should try it with some of the lemon curd. My cook makes it fresh every day.” Rachel didn’t feel like she was in a position to defy her hostess, so she scooped on some lemon curd and took her first bite. It was pure heaven—the buttery lightness of the pastry combined with the decadent cream and the smooth hint of sweet lemon made for a perfect alchemy of flavors.
Rachel sighed audibly. “You were right, Nick, this is the best scone on the planet.”
Nick grinned triumphantly.
“Mrs. Young, I am still discovering the history of Singapore. Was afternoon tea always a custom in your family?” Rachel asked.
“Well, I am not a native Singaporean. I spent my childhood in Peking, and we of course did not follow the British custom there. It was only when my family moved here that we picked it up, these colonial habits. It was something we first did for our British guests because they didn’t much appreciate Chinese cooking. Then, when I married Nick’s grandfather, who had spent many years abroad in England, he insisted on a proper afternoon tea with all the trimmings. And of course the children loved it. I suppose that’s how I got used to it,” Su Yi replied in her slow, deliberate way.
It was only then Rachel realized that Nick’s grandmother had not touched any of the scones or finger sandwiches. Instead, she ate only a piece of nyonya kueh with her tea.
“Tell me, is it true that you are a professor of economics?” Su Yi asked.
“It is,” Rachel replied.
“It is good that you had the opportunity to learn such things in America. My father was a businessman, but he never wanted me to learn about financial matters. He always said that within a hundred years, China would become the most powerful nation the world has ever seen. And that is something I always repeated to my children and grandchildren. Isn’t that right, Nicky?”
“Yes, Ah Ma. That’s why you made me learn my Mandarin,” Nick confirmed. He could already see where this conversation was headed.
“Well I was right in doing that, wasn’t I? I am fortunate enough to see my father’s foresight come true in my lifetime. Rachel, did you watch the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony?”
“I did.”
“Did you see how magnificent it was? No one in the world can doubt China’s might after the Olympics.”
“No, they really can’t,” Rachel replied.
“The future is in Asia. Nick’s place is here, don’t you think?”
Nick knew Rachel was headed straight into an ambush, and interrupted her before she could answer. “I have always said that I would return to Asia, Ah Ma. But right now I am still gaining valuable experience in New York.”
“You said the same thing six years ago when you wanted to remain in England after your studies. And now you’re in America. What’s next, Australia, like your father? It was a mistake to send you abroad in the first place. You have become far too seduced by Western ways.” Rachel couldn’t help noting the irony in what Nick’s grandmother was saying. She looked and sounded like a Chinese woman in the most traditional sense, and yet here they were in a walled garden straight out of the Loire Valley having English afternoon tea.
Nick didn’t know how to respond. This was a debate he had been having with his grandmother for the past few years, and he knew he would never win. He started to pick apart the colored layers in a piece of nyonya kueh, thinking he should excuse himself for a moment. It would be good for Rachel to have some private time with his grandmother. He glanced at his watch and said, “Ah Ma, I think Auntie Alix and family will be arriving from Hong Kong any minute now. Why don’t I go welcome them and bring them here?”
His grandmother nodded. Nick smiled at Rachel, giving her a look of assurance before stepping out of the conservatory.
Su Yi tilted her head to the left slightly, and one of the Thai lady’s maids immediately sprang to her side, bending in one graceful motion onto her knees so that her ear was level with Su Yi’s mouth.
“Tell the conservatory gardener that it needs to be five degrees warmer in here,” Su Yi said in English. She turned her attention back to Rachel. “Tell me, where are your people from?” There was a force-fulness in her voice that Rachel had not previously noticed.
“My mother’s family came from Guangdong. My father’s family . . . I never knew,” Rachel answered nervously.
“How come?”
“He died before I was born. And then I came to America as an infant with my mother.”
“And did your mother remarry?”
“No, she never did.” Rachel could feel the Thai lady’s maids staring in silent judgment.
“So, do you support your mother?”
“No, quite the contrary. She put herself through college in America and is now a real estate agent. She’s done well for herself and was even able to support me through my university studies,” Rachel responded.
Su Yi was silent for a while, considering the girl before her. Rachel didn’t dare to move at all. Finally, Su Yi spoke. “Did you know that I had quite a few brothers and sisters? My father had many concubines who bore him children, but only one supreme wife, my mother. She bore him six children, but out of all my siblings, only three were officially accepted. Myself, and two of my brothers.”
“Why only the three of you?” Rachel ventured to ask.
“You see, my father believed he had a gift. He felt that he was able to ascertain a person’s entire future based on their faces . . . the way they looked . . . and he chose to keep only the children he felt would go on to please him. He chose my husband for me this way as well, did you know that? He said, ‘This man has a good face. He will never make any money, but he will never hurt you.’ He was right on both counts.” Nick’s grandmother leaned in closer to Rachel and stared straight into her eyes. “I see your face,” she said in a hushed tone.
Before Rachel could ask what she meant, Nick approached the conservatory door with a cluster of guests. The door burst open, and a man in a white linen shirt and bright orange linen pants bounded toward Nick’s grandmother.
“Ah Ma, dearest Ah Ma! How I’ve missed you!” the man said dramatically in Cantonese, dropping to his knees and kissing her hands.
“Aiyah, Eddie, cha si lang!” Su Yi scolded, withdrawing her hands and smacking him across the head.