CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BONDI BEACH, SYDNEY
“Are you fishing on your dock?” Nick asked when his father picked up the phone. He could hear the crashing waves along the seashore.
“No, I’m doing the cliff walk from Bondi to Coogee right now.”
“I love that hike.”
“Yeah, it’s a good day for it. You know your mother invited Daisy, Nadine, Lorena, and Carol to Sydney? The whole gin gang’s here, and it’s such a toilet-seat-down invasion, I needed to get out of the house. The ladies are busy hatching some kind of plot…I think involving Tyersall Park.”
“That’s the reason I was calling, Dad. It looks like things are moving far too quickly with the house. Your sisters seem really primed to sell it to the highest bidder, and I don’t even want to tell you what those developers have planned.”
“Does it even matter? Once we sell it, the new owners can do whatever they want.”
“But I feel like everyone’s losing sight of the big picture,” Nick argued. “Tyersall Park is a unique property, and we need to make sure that it’s preserved. I mean, I’m at the house right now, and even just looking out the window onto the gardens—the rambutan trees are bearing fruit, and they are flaming red. There’s nothing quite like it.”
“I think you’re being too sentimental,” Philip said.
“Maybe I am, but I’m just surprised that no one else cares about this house in the way that I do. Everyone’s just seeing dollar signs while I see something so rare that needs to be protected.”
Philip sighed. “Nicky, I know for you this house was like some never-never land, but for the rest of us, it was a bit of a prison. Living in a palace was no fun as a kid. I grew up with nothing but rules. There were so many rooms I wasn’t even allowed to enter, chairs I couldn’t sit in because they were too valuable. You have no idea, because by the time you came along, my mother was a very different person.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the stories. But surely you must have some good memories?”
“To me, it’s just one gigantic headache. Don’t forget, I was shipped off to boarding school practically as soon as I could walk, so it never truly felt like home to me. Now, even the thought of having to come back to Singapore to deal with all these property folks fills me with dread. Do you know how many ACS old boys have called me up out of the blue to invite me to lunch, to golf, all that nonsense? People I haven’t seen in eons are suddenly behaving like my best friend because they can smell the money.”
“I’m sorry that’s happening, Dad. But let me ask you something.” Nick took a deep breath as he prepared to make his pitch. “If I can somehow raise the money, would you consider leveraging your thirty percent stake and joining me and possibly Alistair to buy everyone else out? If you give me a little time, I know I can find a way to make it financially worthwhile for us to own the estate.”
The line went silent for a moment, and Nick wasn’t sure if his father was upset or if he was just on a particularly arduous stretch of the hike. Suddenly he spoke up again. “If you care that much about Tyersall Park, why don’t you handle this whole house sale? Do what you think is best. I’ll give you permission to act as my proxy, power of attorney, whatever they call it. In fact, I’ll sign over my thirty percent stake to you right now.”
“Really?” Nick said, not quite believing what he was hearing.
“Sure. I mean, it’s all going be yours one day anyway.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Do whatever you want with the house, just keep me out of it,” Philip said, climbing along the edge of a beautiful cliff-side cemetery overlooking the South Pacific. “Nicky, I’m up at that cemetery by Bronte now. Will you make sure—”
“Yes, Dad, you’ve told me many times before. You want to be buried there. You want to have a view of the humpback whales doing backflips for all of eternity.”
“And if they run out of lots, you’ll find another ocean-side spot? New Zealand, Tasmania, anyplace but Singapore.”
“Of course.” Nick laughed. He hung up the phone and found Rachel staring at him curiously. “That sounded weird, from what I heard.”
“Yeah, it was one of the weirdest calls I’ve ever made. I think my father just gave me his share of Tyersall Park.”
“WHAAT?” Rachel’s eyes got huge.
“He told me he’d sign over his stake, and I can do whatever I want as long as I leave him out of it.”
“What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch. My dad has never been interested in financial matters at all. He really would rather not be bothered with it.”
“I guess when you’ve been born with it…” Rachel shrugged.
“Precisely! I still can’t believe how easy it was to convince him, though. I thought I was going to have to fly down to Sydney and grovel on my knees.”
“With your father’s share in your hands, you’re the biggest stakeholder now!” Rachel said excitedly.
“No, we are. And this gives us the leverage to stall the bidding war and buy some time.”
“Do you want to go downstairs and break the news to your aunties?”
Nick grinned. “No time like the present.”
They left their bedroom and walked over to the drawing room where Felicity, Victoria, and Alix were all sitting, unusually silent.
“I have an announcement to make,” Nick said boldly.
Felicity had a peculiar look on her face. “Nicky, we just got off the phone. It seems we have a new offer on the table.”
“I have an offer to propose as well.”
“Well, this is a very unusual offer…it comes from someone who wants to preserve the house entirely and not build a single new structure on the estate,” Alix said.
Nick and Rachel exchanged looks of surprise. “Really? And they are offering more than those Zion people?” Rachel asked dubiously.
“A great deal more. The offer is for ten billion dollars.”
Nick was incredulous. “Ten BILLION? Who on earth would want to pay so much money and not develop the property?”
“It’s some fellow from China. He wants to come and see the house tomorrow.”
“China? What’s his name?” Rachel asked.
Felicity frowned. “If I recall correctly, I think Oliver said his name was Jack something. Jack Ting? Jack Ping?”
Nick put his hand on his forehead in dismay. “Oh God—Jack Bing.”
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER…
KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA
“So, she is the queen?”
“No, Kitty, she is the mother of the current Sultan of Perawak, so she’s the Queen Mother but she’s called the Dowager Sultana,” Oliver explained through his headset microphone as they rode together in the helicopter.
“Ah. So I have to curtsy to her?”
“You certainly do. She’s as royal as it gets. And remember, only speak when you are spoken to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not allowed to speak to her. The sultana initiates the conversation and gets to do all the talking—you simply keep your pretty mouth shut until she asks you a question. And if you have to leave the room for any reason—which you really shouldn’t before she does—but if you feel the sudden urge to vomit, make sure to walk out of the room facing her. The sultana must never see your ass, so you are never to turn your back on her, understood?”
Kitty nodded diligently. “I understand—no talking, no vomiting, no ass-backing.”
“Now, as I said, I don’t want you to expect too much today. This is just an introduction, and a chance for Her Majesty to become acquainted with you.”
“So you’re saying she isn’t going to give me a knighthood today?”
“Kitty, women don’t get knighted in Malaysia. There is a whole different system of honors here. The sultana can bestow a title whenever she pleases, but don’t get your hopes up that it’s going to happen today.”
“You sound angry at me,” Kitty said with a little pout.
“I am not angry, Kitty. I’m just speaking over the chopper noise.” Truth be told, Oliver had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown ever since Kitty had delivered her ultimatum, and he was anxious for everything to go as planned today. He had way too much to lose if it didn’t. Trying to placate her a bit, he continued, “I’m just trying to make you understand that these titles given by royals like the sultana are real honors. They honor truly deserving people who have done a tremendous amount of good for Malaysia over a lifetime. People who build hospitals and schools, who start companies that support entire towns and provide work to thousands of locals. These honors mean a great deal more than Colette’s title. All she ever did was spread her legs for some posh dimwit.”
The helicopter swooped over the Kuala Lumpur skyline, passing the iconic Petronas Towers as it started to descend. “So this is where the sultana lives?” Kitty asked as she peered out at the exclusive leafy neighborhood of Bukit Tunku.
“This is just her little crash pad in KL for when she comes to the capital. She has residences all over the world—a house on Kensington Palace Gardens, a villa overlooking Lake Geneva, and of course, the gigantic palace in Perawak,” Oliver informed her as the chopper touched down on the great lawn.
The two of them jumped out of the chopper, and a uniformed officer awaited them on the lawn. “Welcome to the Istana al Noor,” he said as he led them toward a humongous white palace that resembled a wedding cake. Entering through the front doors, Oliver and Kitty found themselves in a vast reception hall with nine gigantic pyramidal chandeliers that descended from the coffered gold-leafed ceiling like upside-down versions of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.
“This is her little crash pad?” Kitty remarked.
“Oh, you have no idea, Kitty. Her home in Perawak is twice the size of Buckingham Palace.”
They were shown into the drawing room, which had dramatic black marble floors and walls painted in a shimmering crimson hue. The space was filled with priceless Peranakan gilded wood antiques mixed with fantastical Claude Lalanne bronze furniture. Facing them was a vibrant pink-and-yellow triptych of Andy Warhol paintings depicting the Dowager Sultana in her younger days. “Wow, this was not what I was expecting,” Kitty said, clearly in awe of her surroundings.
“Yes, the Dowager Sultana was definitely a hell-raiser back in the seventies,” Oliver noted as they both sat down on a backless velvet settee. Next to the settee was a round Lalanne table laden with gold-framed photographs of the sultana posing with famous personages. Kitty peered at the pictures, recognizing the Queen of England, Pope John Paul II, Barack and Michelle Obama, Indira Gandhi, and a woman with an enormous pile of blond hair.
“Who is that blond woman? She looks so familiar. Is she some queen?” Kitty asked.
Oliver squinted at the picture and then let out a quick laugh. “No, but she is adored by many queens. That’s Dolly Parton.”
“Ah,” Kitty said. Suddenly the double doors opened, and two honor guards in full-dress uniform entered. Flanking the doorway, they clicked their heels at attention and tapped the base of their long bayonets on the marble floor twice in unison. “We need to stand, Kitty,” Oliver suggested. Kitty quickly stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles on the front of her ankle-length Roksanda skirt and then adjusting her posture.
The guard on the right side shouted sternly, “Sama-sama, maju kehadapan! Pandai cari pelajaran!” They tapped their bayonets on the floor again, as the sultana swept into the room in a flaming violet silk kebaya, followed by four attendants. Her head was covered in a matching violet, blue, and white headscarf, and she resembled Queen Mary, covered in precious jewels from the waist up. Pinned in the middle of her hijab right above her forehead was an enormous sunburst diamond brooch with a forty-five-carat pink diamond in the center. On her ears were a pair of diamond-and-pearl girandole earrings, and around her neck were what appeared to be ten or twelve heaping necklaces of nothing but diamonds, diamonds, and more diamonds.
Kitty’s jaw hung open at the sight of this Queen Mother ablaze in diamonds and she dropped to a curtsy so deep, Oliver thought she was doing the limbo. Oliver bowed smartly.
“Oliver T’sien, what a pleasure!”
“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am. May I humbly present Mrs. Kitty Bing of Shanghai, Los Angeles, and Singapore.”
“It’s an honor to be in your beautiful country, Your Majesty,” Kitty blurted out nervously, before remembering that she wasn’t supposed to speak first.
The Dowager Sultana pursed her lips and stared at Kitty for a brief moment, saying nothing. She sat down on a throne-like Bergère chair, and Oliver and Kitty took their seats again. An army of maids entered the room bearing gold-lacquered platters filled with Malay desserts and steaming pots of tea.
As the maids began serving tea to everyone, the Dowager Sultana smiled at Oliver. “Come, don’t be shy! I know how much you love ondeh ondeh.”
“You know me too well,” Oliver said, helping himself to one of the bright green rice-cake balls stuffed with palm sugar and rolled in grated coconut.
“Now, what brings you to this neck of the woods today?”
“Well, Kitty has recently become enchanted with Malaysia, so since we were in town, I thought it only fitting that she meet this country’s greatest living legend.”
The Dowager Sultana beamed. “Oh Oliver, you make me sound like a fossil! Tell me, child, what do you like about my country?”
Kitty stared at the sultana blankly. Until today, she had never set foot on Malay soil and didn’t know a thing about the country. “Er…well…I love the people most of all, Your Majesty. So warm and…hardworking,” Kitty said, thinking of the half a dozen or so Malay maids that worked at Cluny Park Road.
The Dowager Sultana pursed her lips again. “Really? I was not expecting to hear that at all. Most people tell me how much they love our beaches and our satay. So do you intend to put down some roots here?”
“Well, if I can find a palace as beautiful as yours, I’d be very tempted.”
“Why thank you, but this is no palace. This is just a house.”
“Kitty’s husband, Jack Bing, is one of China’s premier industrialists. So they are highly interested in investing in Malaysia.”
“Well we do have such a wonderful relationship with China. And I do adore that First Lady of yours,” the Dowager Sultana said, picking up a piece of ondeh ondeh with her fingers and chewing on it slowly.
“Oh, you’ve met her?” Kitty said excitedly, forgetting royal protocol again.
“Why yes. I gave her an audience at my palace in Perawak. What an accomplished woman, and what a voice! Now, tell me, Oliver, how has your dear grandmama been since I last saw her?”
“Her health is excellent, ma’am. But I must confess her spirits have been rather low lately. As you know, my great-aunt Su Yi’s passing has affected her greatly.”
Kitty, feeling bored, began to zone out on the photo of the sultana with Michelle Obama. She was trying to identify the designer of Michelle’s red dress. Was it Isabel Toledo or Jason Wu? She felt sorry for the First Lady—that poor woman was obligated to only wear American designers.
The sultana continued to speak. “Ah yes, it was such a beautiful funeral. Did you not enjoy my son’s eulogy to Su Yi?”
“It was remarkable. I did not know that the sultan spent a year living at Tyersall Park.”
“Yes, when he was doing a special course at the National University of Singapore, Su Yi was kind enough to host him. I’m afraid he found the Malay embassy accommodations to be lacking, and he was much more at home at Tyersall. You do know his great-grandfather was the sultan who originally built it?”
“Forgive me, ma’am, I had forgotten. No wonder he would feel a kinship to the place. If I might venture to ask, was Su Yi ever conferred with a title?”
Kitty’s ears suddenly pricked up.
“To my knowledge, she wasn’t. I believe in the 1970s the Agong—whoever it was back then, I’ve lost track—tried to honor her, but she graciously turned it down. She was already Lady Young, and never even used that title. Alamak, what would Su Yi need a title for? There was never any doubt of her position. I mean, she already had Tyersall Park. What more do you need?”
“That’s quite true.” Oliver nodded, stirring his tea.
“Tell me, Oliver, what is going to happen to that spectacular palace now?” the sultana asked, her brow furrowing.
“Oh it’s anyone’s guess. My cousins are entertaining an avalanche of offers. Every day I hear there’s someone new coming in with an even higher bid. We’re in the billions now.”
“I’m not surprised at all. If I was younger, I might have considered it as a home in Singapore myself. Of course, it will never be the same without Su Yi, but whoever ends up living there will be tremendously fortunate.”
Oliver sighed dramatically. “Sadly, though, I don’t think that will happen. The house will surely be torn down.”
“Oh my goodness, how can that be?” The sultana placed her hand to her chest in shock, showing off her fifty-eight-carat blue diamond ring. Kitty’s eyes followed the solitaire like a cat distracted by a shiny toy.
“The land is far too valuable. All the developers that have put in bids have ambitious plans for Tyersall Park, and I don’t believe that would include the old house.”
“But what a travesty that would be! Tyersall Park is one of the most elegant estates in Southeast Asia. That rose garden, and the grand salon—such sophistication! Someone needs to rescue it from the greedy developers!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Oliver said.
Kitty listened to them with fascination. This was the first time she had heard anything about this old house.
“Well, Oliver, surely you know someone who will want to buy the estate and maintain it to the same standards as Su Yi did? What about that new Chinese duchess whatshername who’s moving to Singapore to save the chimpanzees? I met her at the funeral.”
Kitty looked up from her tea in alarm.
“Um, you’re referring to the Countess of Palliser?” Oliver said, glancing at Kitty uncomfortably.
“Yes, that one. Do you know her? She should buy the house. Then she would become the undisputed queen of Singapore!” the Dowager Sultana declared, popping another sweet coconut ball in her mouth.
After their audience with the sultana, Kitty remained silent during the helicopter ride back to Singapore. As she alighted from the chopper, she turned to Oliver and said, “This house the sultana was referring to, how much are we talking about?”
“Kitty, I know you heard what you heard, but the Dowager Sultana lives in a bit of a fantasy land. Colette would never buy Tyersall Park.”
“And why not?”
“I know my cousins—they would never sell the house to her.”
“Oh really? You said Colette would never be at your auntie’s funeral, and yet there she was. You said Colette wasn’t a threat, but then she bumped me off the cover of Tattle. I don’t think I can believe anything you say anymore.”
“All right, I’ll admit, I’m not the Oracle of Delphi. But there are some things that even Colette could not make happen. For one thing, there is no way she can afford that house.”
“Really? How much is it?”
“Well, I’m told the highest bid right now is four billion. And I know Colette doesn’t have that kind of money on her own.”
Kitty frowned. “She doesn’t, but she has a trust fund worth five billion. She can borrow against that trust if she really wants this house. And something tells me she does. She wants so desperately to be the queen of Singapore, queen of the fucking universe!”
“Look, Kitty, if it will stop you from losing your mind from this ridiculous rivalry, go ahead, try to buy the house. I’ll even go to my cousins with your offer for you. But just so you know, in order for the Youngs to regard your offer as serious, you’ve got to come in with a bid that wipes everything else off the table clean.”
“So we offer them five billion.”
“That’s not going to work. You have to realize something, Kitty: You are a Mainlander who’s married to a mogul with a very big but very new fortune. You haven’t yet gained the degree of respectability that these people value. If you want to steal Singapore’s most prized estate away from its snottiest family, you’ve got to do it in a big way. You need to shock and awe them with your money.”
“How much will that take?”
“Ten billion.”
Kitty inhaled deeply. “Okay then, offer them ten billion.”
Oliver was taken aback by how quickly she responded. “Are you serious? Don’t you need to talk to Jack first?”
“I’ll worry about my husband. You worry about getting me that house and you better get it before that little snake Colette comes around with her tongue out. If she steals this house from under my nose, I will never ever forgive you. And you know what that means,” Kitty warned, as she got in to her waiting car.
After waving her off, Oliver took out his cell phone and punched a number on his speed dial.
“Hallooooo?” a voice answered.
“It worked. It bloody worked.” Oliver sighed in relief.
“That Kitty girl is going to buy the house?”
“You better believe it. Auntie Zarah, I could kiss your feet.”
“I can’t believe it was that easy,” the Dowager Sultana of Perawak said.
“The minute you started talking about Tyersall Park, she forgot all about the stupid title. You were absolutely brilliant!”
“Was I?”
“I had no idea you could act like that!”
The Dowager Sultana giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh my goodness, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time! That ridiculously formal way you were speaking to me—‘If I might venture to ask’—hahahaha, you sounded like you were in a Jane Austen novel! I was biting my lip to stop from laughing. And oh, and I have a horrible neck ache now from wearing all those damn necklaces! I thought I was going to be strangled by diamonds, heeheeheeheehee!”
“If you hadn’t been dressed like that, Kitty would not have been in such awe of you. She’s been spoiled with jewels herself, so we really had to lay on the shock and awe.”
“Shock and awe indeed! Did you like what I had my guards chant before I made my grand entrance into the room?”
“Oh my God, I almost peed in my pants! I was thinking, why are they chanting the Singapore Children’s Day song?”
“Heeheehee! Remember when your mummy made you sing it to me one day when you came home from school? You were so proud to sing a song in Malay. Now, did you like my mention of China’s First Lady?”
“I did, I did. Very appropriate, Auntie Zarah.”
“I’ve never even met her, heeheeheehee!”
“You deserve an Oscar, Auntie Zarah. I owe you big-time.”
“Just send me a jar of those pineapple tarts that your cook makes, and we’ll call it even.”
“Auntie Zarah, you’re going to get a whole crate of those pineapple tarts.”
“Alamak, no! Please don’t! I’m on a diet! I was so nervous during my performance, I ate too many of those coconut puffs today, heeheeheehee. I have to force myself to go to my granddaughter’s zoomba class in the ballroom now!”
The Yang di-Pertuan Agong, or Agong for short, is the monarch of Malaysia. The Nine Malay states each have their own hereditary rulers and royal families, and the Agong is elected from among these rulers every five years.