CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TYERSALL PARK, SINGAPORE

“It was an epic fail, a disaster of titanic proportions,” Carlton sighed over the phone to his sister as he recounted his date with Scheherazade.

“I’m so sorry, Carlton—it sounds traumatic,” Rachel said. “So what happened after Colette dropped her bombshell?”

“Well, it basically killed the dinner for everyone. Scheherazade didn’t eat a thing after that, and I bolted right after dessert was served. It became apparent to me that Scheherazade’s parents were going to file a restraining order against me if I stuck around one minute longer.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“No, actually, it probably got worse. Everyone went into the drawing room for drinks and coffee, and I just know Colette was itching to get into all the details of exactly what happened in London. I’m sure she went on a no-holds-barred campaign to tell the Shangs what a murderous monster I am. Scheherazade walked me down to my car, and I tried to tell her the whole story but it just all came out wrong. I was rushing and nervous, and I think she was too in shock to process anything.”

“It’s a lot of story for a first date, Carlton. Give her a little time to recover,” Rachel said gently.

“She’ll have all the time in the world—I heard she left for Paris first thing this morning. Game over.”

“It’s not game over. Maybe her leaving had nothing to do with you.”

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts in the past twenty-four hours.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Jesus, you millennials! If you really want to win her back, fly to Paris, send her a thousand roses, take her to dinner at some romantic rooftop in the Marais, just do something other than text her!”

“It’s not so simple. She’s surrounded by bodyguards 24/7. If she’s not going to respond to my texts, I don’t want to be some creepy stalker who shows up at her doorstep.”

“Carlton, even if you tried, you would never come across as a creepy stalker. Scheherazade’s obviously freaked out because she’s been fed a line of bullshit from Colette. So you need to show her who you really are. She’s waiting for you to do that, don’t you see?”

“I think she’s back in Paris living her life, probably dating some French count with three-week-old stubble by now.”

Rachel sighed. “You know what it is, Carlton? You’re just spoiled. You had the fortune, or maybe the misfortune, of being born good-looking, and girls have been throwing themselves at you all your life. You’ve never had to lift a finger. Scheherazade is the first girl who’s challenging you, who’s making you work for it. You’ve met your match. So are you gonna step up?”

Carlton was quiet for a moment. “So what’s my next move, Rachel?”

“You need to figure that out. I’m not going to give you a cheat sheet! You need to win her back with a wildly romantic gesture. Look, I need to go. There’s a potential buyer coming to tour Tyersall Park this morning, and you don’t want to know who it is.”

“Why not?” Carlton asked.

“Because it’s Jack Bing.”

“Bollocks! You’re pulling my leg!”

“I wish I was. He’s offering an insane amount of money for the house.”

“Bloody hell, between Colette and her father, the Bings are clearly out for blood in Singapore. Don’t sell it to him.”

Rachel sighed. “I wish it were up to me. Nick and I are actually trying to avoid him, and I think I hear people arriving.”

“Okay, call me later.”

Jack Bing stood in the middle of the Andalusian Cloister, puffing away on his cigar as he stared at the ornately carved columns. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a house like this in my whole life,” he said in Mandarin.

“I love this inner courtyard! We can take out this reflecting pool and put in a real swimming pool,” Kitty suggested in English.

Felicity, Victoria, and Alix winced but said nothing.

Oliver stepped in diplomatically. “Kitty, this reflecting pool was brought over tile by tile from Córdoba, Spain. Do you see these blue-and-coral Moorish tiles lining the pool? They’re extraordinarily rare, from the thirteenth century.”

“Oh, I had no idea. Of course we must keep them, then,” Kitty said.

Jack stared at the lotus-shaped rose quartz in the middle of the fountain that was bubbling a slow, hypnotic trickle of water. “No, we mustn’t change a thing. This house may not be as grand as our place in Shanghai, but it has amazing feng shui. I can feel the chi flowing through everywhere. No wonder your family prospered here,” Jack told the assembled ladies.

The Young sisters nodded politely, as none of them spoke Mandarin and only understood about thirty percent of what he said. Jack looked at the three frumpily dressed sisters, thinking to himself, Only women who grew up in a place like this can get away with looking like that. And they can’t even speak a word of Mandarin. They are like dodo birds, a useless species. No wonder they are losing their house.

The group proceeded through the arcade into the library.

Jack looked around at all the old books lining the double-height bookcases and the sleek Indian rosewood desk. “I love this kind of furniture. Art deco, isn’t it?”

“Actually, this was Sir James’s library, and he had all the furniture custom designed by Pierre Jeanneret in the late 1940s,” Oliver informed him.

“Well, it reminds me a bit of the old Shanghai clubs where my grandfather used to play,” Jack remarked. Turning to the ladies, he said, “My grandfather worked in a water-boiler factory, but he was also a trumpet player. Every night for extra money, he would play in a jazz band that performed in all of the clubs frequented by Westerners. When I was a little boy, it was my duty to shine his trumpet for him every night. I would spit and spit at the trumpet to clean it, in order to make the polish go farther.”

Felicity backed away nervously, afraid that he might actually perform one of his spitting demonstrations near her.

“How much for the furniture?” Jack asked.

“Er…which pieces did you have in mind? Some of them are…things…that we could never part with,” Victoria said in the rudimentary Mandarin she used with her servants. “Oliver, how do you say ‘heirloom’ in Mandarin?”

“Ah, that’s ‘chuan jia bao,’ ” Oliver told her.

“Oh, I love the tables, the chairs, this purple-and-blue rug, especially.” Jack pointed at the floor. Felicity stared down at the purple silk rug and a story her aunt Rosemary T’sien had once told her suddenly came flooding back…

You know your mother once stared a Japanese general in the eye and dared him to shoot her? It happened right here in this library, where Su Yi was hosting a card party for some high-ranking officers. They were always forcing her to do things like this during the occupation, host these horrible debauched parties for them. My husband—your uncle Tsai Tay—had just been arrested for some ridiculous offense, and when the general lost a game of gin rummy to your mother, she demanded that in return he free Tsai Tay. Of course the general was outraged by her boldness, and immediately took out his pistol and held it to her temple. I was sitting right next to her, and I thought she was a gone case.

Su Yi remained completely calm and said in that imperious way of hers, “General, you are going to ruin Rosemary’s beautiful cheongsam if you shoot me right now. My brains will be all over it, not to mention this beautiful art deco carpet from Paris. Do you know how much this carpet is worth? It’s designed by a very famous French artist named Christian Bérard, and would make such a beautiful present for your wife, if only it wasn’t stained with my blood. Now, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your wife, would you?” The general was silent for a moment, but then he burst into laughter. And then he put down his gun, took the rug with him, and the next day, they released my husband from prison. Tsai Tay would never forget what Su Yi did for him.

Hiyah, there are so many stories I can tell you about the war years, but Su Yi wouldn’t want me to. But you know, she saved the lives of so many people, and most of them didn’t even realize she was the one responsible. She wanted it that way. After the war was over, we heard that the general was executed for war crimes during the war tribunals in Manila. One day, your mother called me up and said, “You’ll never guess what just arrived in a long box. That purple art deco rug that the general took back to Japan. I suppose his wife never approved of it.”

Felicity snapped out of her reverie and said decisively, “Mr. Bing, this rug isn’t for sale. But there are some items that we could offer with the house.”

“All right then. Oliver, could you make an assessment of how much everything is worth? I’ll take whatever chuan jia biao these nice ladies will let me have,” Jack said, turning to the Young sisters with a little smile.

“Of course,” Oliver said.

“Ladies, I approve of this house, and I think my family will be very happy using it whenever we visit Singapore. Thank you for showing us around this morning, and please, this is a standing offer, so take your time to decide. I know this must not be an easy decision for all of you,” Jack said. He then strolled out the front doors, flicked his cigar onto the gravel driveway, and got into the back of the first black Audi SUV. Kitty climbed in after him, the bodyguards got into their SUVs, and the convoy of cars zoomed off.

“Well that was excruciating,” Victoria said as they sank into the sofas in the drawing room.

“Oliver, where on earth did you ever dig up these people?” Felicity asked contemptuously.

“Believe it or not, they’re far from the worst. Jack has become quite an astute art collector—they have one of the top private museums in Shanghai—and Kitty’s taste has actually matured. Plus, she’s willing to learn. Don’t worry, they won’t do anything to the house without my approval.”

Victoria looked up in surprise to see Nick and Rachel entering the drawing room. “I didn’t realize you two were home! Why didn’t you come out and meet these people? Rachel, we could have used another Chinese translator!”

Nick plopped down on one of the art deco club chairs. “Oh I’ve met them before—I met Jack in Shanghai a couple of years ago and had hoped never to meet him again, and his wife we all met when she came for Colin’s wedding.”

“Wait a minute…that woman was at Colin Khoo’s wedding?” Felicity looked taken aback.

“Auntie Felicity, she was at your house. She used to be Alistair’s girlfriend,” Nick said irritatedly.

“Good grief, that was her? The one with the big brown cow nipples? Pussy Ping or whatever her name was?” Alix blurted out.

“Her name is Kitty Pong,” Rachel said.

“Dear me, I didn’t recognize her at all. She has a completely new face! No wonder Alistair suddenly flew back to Hong Kong first thing this morning! But I thought she was married to that ghastly boy, Carol Tai’s good-for-nothing son? The one that butchered his face with plastic surgery too?” Alix said.

“That was ages ago, Auntie Alix. Kitty’s traded up.”

“She most certainly has. I actually quite liked her pretty floral dress today. Why, she didn’t look very vulgar at all,” Victoria noted.

“It’s impossible to look vulgar in Dries Van Noten,” Oliver declared.

“So you really want to sell the house to them?” Nick asked gruffly.

“Nicky, you tell me how we can say no to ten billion dollars? That’s three times more than our top offer. It would be pure stupidity to refuse this kind of money!” Felicity reasoned.

Oliver nodded. “It would be looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

Nick glanced over at Oliver in annoyance. “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up in this house. For some of us, it’s not just about the money.”

Oliver sighed. “Look, Nicky, I know you’re upset with me, but I really didn’t mean for any of this to hurt you. I loved your grandmother and I love this house more than you can possibly imagine. I thought you wanted to preserve Tyersall Park, and when I heard that the Bings were on the lookout for a new place in Singapore, I just put two and two together. These people love the house, and they’re committed to maintaining its architectural integrity. And they actually have the kind of money it takes to restore the house and keep the estate in tip-top condition for generations to come.”

Rachel spoke up. “Do those generations include Colette Bing?”

Oliver’s face flushed red, while Felicity asked, “Who’s Colette Bing?”

“Colette Bing is Jack’s daughter. Two years ago, her personal assistant, Roxanne, tried to poison Rachel, on Colette’s behalf,” Nick answered sharply.

“WHAAAT?” Felicity and Victoria shrieked in horror.

“Oh my goodness, I had completely forgotten that this was that family.” Alix moaned, putting her hands to her face.

“Rachel, that was such an unfortunate incident, but you should know that Jack and Kitty have absolutely nothing to do with Colette anymore,” Oliver said.

Nick’s face flashed with anger. “It wasn’t an unfortunate incident. My wife almost died! Just how much do you stand to make on this deal, Oliver? Aside from your commission on the sale, which will be in the millions, how much will you and that auction house of yours be making selling new stuff to these eager Bings?”

Oliver got up from the divan and smiled apologetically. “You know, I think I will leave you all now. I can see that I’ve frayed a few nerves. The offer’s on the table, and I look forward to hearing your response.”

As soon as Oliver had left the room, Victoria spoke up. “You know, I’ve been thinking…there is something to all this that’s just been so serendipitous, so impossible to believe, this has to be a sign. Nicky, this incredible offer from the Bings, I think part of it is because they are atoning for what happened to Rachel. I think this is all Mummy’s work. She is looking out for us from heaven.”

Nick rolled his eyes in frustration.

“It is hard to believe that anyone would pay this much over the market value for Tyersall Park—” Alix began.

“Mummy had it planned all along. She knew we wouldn’t be getting any money from the Shang Trust, and so she wanted us all to get the most money possible out of Tyersall Park. That’s why she split it up like she did, and now she’s working a miracle for us.” Victoria’s voice brimmed with conviction.

Nick suddenly stood up and looked at his aunties. “Look, you can tell yourself any story you want if it helps you to sleep at night. Personally, I can’t stand the idea of this house going to the family that almost killed my wife! I don’t think we can trust them to keep their word about preserving the house—I can tell that Kitty’s just waiting to get her claws into redesigning it from top to bottom. But if I can match Jack’s offer, will you sell it to me?”

Rachel looked at him in surprise, while Alix answered, “Nicky, don’t be silly. It would be absurd for you to buy this house at that price! We couldn’t let you do that!”

“You didn’t answer my question. If I can get us ten billion, do we have a deal?”

The aunties looked at one another.

“Okay, we will give you one month,” Felicity finally relented.