Rich People Problems Page 86

 

“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.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MACRITCHIE RESERVOIR, SINGAPORE

It had been a long, hot, mosquito-ridden hike, and as Carlton pounded his way up another sloping hill, he wondered what the hell he had been thinking when he suggested this plan to Scheherazade. His shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was certain that no amount of Serge Lutens cologne could mask how he smelled at this point. He turned around to check on Scheherazade and saw that she was crouched on the ground, staring at something. At a discreet distance, three of her bodyguards in jogging clothes stood watching them.

“Look! It’s a monitor lizard!” She pointed.

“He’s a pretty big fella,” Carlton said as he caught sight of the three-foot-long reptile resting under a clump of bushes.

“It’s a she, I believe,” Scheherazade corrected. “We had quite a big menagerie of pets when I was growing up. Reptiles were my thing.”

“This was in Surrey?”

“Actually, this was when we were in Bali. My family lived there for about three years when I was a little girl. I was a bit of a wild child then, going barefoot everywhere around the island.”

“That explains why you’re not even breaking a sweat right now,” Carlton said, trying his best not to stare too hard at her goddess-like physique shown off to perfection in her mesh paneled leggings and stretch knit sports bra.

“You know it’s funny—I never sweat. Ever. I’m told that Queen Elizabeth doesn’t either.”

“Well, you’re in good company,” Carlton remarked, as they finally arrived at the TreeTop Walk, a 250-meter suspension bridge that stretches from Bukit Peirce to Bukit Kalang, the two highest points of the preserve. As they traversed the narrow bridge, it began to sway slightly, but then the view opened up and suddenly it felt as though they were floating above the trees.

 

They reached the middle of the bridge and stood in silence for a while, taking in the remarkable view. The tropical-forest canopy stretched all around them as far as the eye could see, and the sounds of cackling birds echoed through the breeze.

“Unbelievable! Thanks for bringing me here,” Scheherazade said.

“It doesn’t feel like we’re in Singapore anymore, does it?”

“Sure doesn’t. This is the first place I’ve been to in a long while that’s reminded me of my childhood. I mean, it’s quite a relief to see that all this nature still exists here.” Scheherazade stared at the calm reservoir in the distance, the water glinting in the late-afternoon sun.

“Has the island changed that much? I only started coming here about five years ago.”

“Carlton, you can’t even imagine. Every time I’m back I hardly recognize it anymore. So much of the old atmosphere has just been wiped clean.”

“I guess that’s why you like living in Paris?”

“Partly. Paris is great because every street you walk down is like an unfolding novel. I actually love it because even though there’s history everywhere, it’s not my history. Does that make any sense?”

“Sure. Shanghai is my hometown, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Whenever I’m back it feels I can never escape my past. Everyone remembers everything about you—your family history, your mistakes,” Carlton said, his face clouding for a moment before he turned back to her. “But that’s not what you meant, was it?”

“Not really. For me, Paris is like neutral territory because it’s neither Singapore nor England. You know, even though I was born in Singapore and lived here until I was ten, I never felt like I truly belonged. Maybe it was because of how I looked—my hair was almost blond back then—it seemed like most people just assumed I was ang mor. And my mum inadvertently reinforced this by pretty much raising me as though I was British. Aside from my Chinese cousins, everyone else we knew was part of the British set. I don’t blame her at all—she felt awfully homesick and was overwhelmed at first by my father’s family. So we sort of existed in this English expat bubble, and for the first ten years of my life I went along thinking of myself as completely English.”