Daisy covertly pointed her iPad toward the central aisle. “Alamak, it’s Eddie Cheng’s wife, the long-suffering Tung girl. She’s dressed up like Queen Victoria in full mourning garb with a big black hat covered by a floor-length black veil. And oh look, their daughter is dressed just like her! And the sons are wearing black brocade Nehru jackets. Good grief, they look like they are in some suicide cult!”
—
Rachel went along with Nick’s parents to the beautifully polished wooden pews reserved for the family, marveling at the beautiful neo-Gothic features of Singapore’s oldest cathedral as she walked up the central aisle. Nick meanwhile headed to the chapel behind the altar to confer with his aunt Victoria, who was in the midst of coordinating all the speakers. He shook the president’s hand and waited patiently for his marching orders. Victoria finally noticed him. “Oh Nicky, good, you’re here. Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve had to cut your speech from the program. We simply don’t have the time, with everyone needing to speak.”
Nick stared at her in dismay. “You’re not serious?”
“I’m afraid I am. Please understand, we’re already running overtime. We have three pastors speaking, the Sultan of Borneo, and the president. And then the Thai ambassador has a special message to deliver, and we also have to fit in Eddie’s song—”
“Eddie’s going to sing?” Nick was incredulous.
“Oh yes. He’s been rehearsing a special hymn all week with a very special guest musician who’s just flown in.”
“So let me understand this: We have six people giving speeches, but no one from the family will actually get a chance to speak about Ah Ma?”
“Well, there’s also been a last-minute addition. Henry Leong Jr. has decided to give a speech.”
“Henry Junior? But he barely knows Ah Ma. He’s spent most of his life in Malaysia being doted on by his Leong grandparents!”
Victoria smiled embarrassedly at the president, who was watching the whole exchange with piqued interest. “Nicky, may I remind you that your cousin Henry is the eldest grandson. He has every right to give a speech. And besides,” Victoria lowered her voice, “he’s running for a seat in parliament this year. Felicity said we HAVE to let him speak. And of course the president wants him to!”
Nick stared at his aunt for a moment. Without another word, he turned around and headed back to his pew.
—
Michael Teo—Astrid’s estranged husband—came striding up the central aisle of St. Andrew’s Cathedral, dressed in a brand-new Rubinacci suit with shiny black John Lobb wing tips. He looked around for where Leong family members might be seated, and just as he caught sight of Astrid fussing over Cassian’s Windsor knot in the second pew from the front, two men in dark suits suddenly appeared, blocking his path.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Teo. Family only on this side,” the man with the earpiece said.
Michael opened his mouth, about to say something, but as he knew that all eyes were on him, he nodded, smiled politely, and took the nearest empty seat in another pew.
Sitting in the pew opposite from Michael were members of the T’sien family. “Did you just see that? That was brutal,” Oliver whispered to his aunt Nancy.
“Hnh! Serves him right. I don’t know how he even got an invitation,” Nancy huffed, as she thought to herself, That man was wasted on Astrid. The things I could do with that body…
Nancy turned to face Oliver’s mother. “Bernadette, how nice you look in that…frock.” Ghastly. I can smell the mothballs.
“Thank you. You look so fashionable, as always,” Bernadette replied, eyeing Nancy’s Gaultier couture dress. Wasting my brother-in-law’s money. No matter how expensive that dress is, you still look like mutton dressed as lamb.
“It’s always nice to see the T’sien jade come out for an airing.” Nancy eyed the brooch Bernadette had on. This should have been mine. What a travesty to see it pinned on that horrific schmatta she calls a dress.
The heirloom jewel had been passed down from T’sien Tsai Tay’s mother to Bernadette—her favorite granddaughter-in-law—and was said to have belonged to the Empress Dowager Ci’an. Nancy leaned over and said to her mother-in-law, “Do you see Bernadette’s brooch…doesn’t the carved jade butterfly look more translucent and vibrant than ever?”
Rosemary smiled. “It’s imperial jade. It always looks better the more it’s worn.” I’m so glad we gave it to Bernadette. This is the gift that keeps on giving—just seeing how jealous Nancy still is after all these years.
Bernadette smiled nervously at the two women and tried desperately to deflect attention from herself. “Aiyah, Nancy, this is nothing. I don’t have much compared to you. Look at your pearls! My goodness, I’ve never seen so many worn at the same time.” She looks like a madwoman who just robbed Mikimoto.
Nancy fingered the enormous Sri Lankan sapphire-and-diamond clasp on her eight-strand pearl necklace. “Oh these? I’ve had them for ages. I think Dickie bought these for me when we were invited to Prince Abdullah of Jordan’s wedding to the beautiful Rania. Of course, this was long before he knew he was going to be king.”
Overhearing the exchange, Oliver added, “I don’t think Abdullah ever expected it. His uncle was supposed to be the next king, but Hussein bypassed him on his deathbed and anointed his son the successor. It was a shock to everyone.”
Nancy sat back in her seat, wondering what shocks lay in store for her Young relatives. What would become of all of Su Yi’s jewelry? Her collection was said to be unparalleled in all of Asia, so there was surely going to be a battle royal over her treasures.
—
Sitting in the middle of her row, Astrid heard an urgent little ping from her cell phone. She got out her phone discreetly and read the text message:
MICHAEL TEO: First u exclude my name from the Straits Times death notice, and now u bar me from sitting next to my own son! Yur gonna pay for this.
Astrid began texting back furiously.
ASTRID LEONG: What are you talking about? My mother and uncle arranged the notice. I didn’t even know you were coming.
MT: I’m not a monster. I liked your Ah Ma, ok?
AL: So where are you now? You’re going to be late!
MT: Already here. I’m sitting one row behind and across from u.
Astrid swiveled around and saw Michael seated across the aisle.
AL: Why are you over there?
MT: Don’t pretend u don’t know. Your father’s fucking bodyguards wouldn’t let me into your row!
AL: I promise you I had nothing to do with that. Come join us now.
Michael stood up, but before he could leave his pew, a cluster of guests walking up the aisle blocked him from moving. Instead, they were being directed into his row, and a lady wearing a chic dark gray silk shantung dress with a silver gray frayed bouclé topper coat and black gloves was ushered into the seat next to him.
Astrid’s jaw dropped. She spun around and faced Oliver, who was seated just behind her. “Am I hallucinating, or is that who I think it is over there in head-to-toe Chanel couture?”
Oliver turned and saw the lady who had just taken the seat on the aisle opposite from him. “Holy Anita Sarawak!” he muttered under his breath. It was Colette, sitting with her husband, the Earl of Palliser, and the British ambassador. How stupid of him—of course the earl would attend. His father, the Duke of Glencora, was great friends with Alfred Shang.