I WAKE UP WITH A THUMPING HEADACHE. I’M NOT LOOKING forward to going back to the Shangri-La at ten, to go through the costume jewellery with Aunty Clara. Running my hand over the bag of my inherited precious adornments, I wonder if it will be safe here at the condo. What if Dad gets past the guards while I’m gone? What if he bullies Brigit or Jay into letting him in without me here?
As I’m eating breakfast, Tessie calls to tell me my father has requested a meeting with her and Letty that afternoon. Can I please attend at Letty’s apartment? Light lunch will be served. Of course, I agree.
I decide to wear a gold disc pendant Clara gave me two years ago. She put the 24-carat chain around my neck and fastened the clasp, looked me in the eye, squeezed my hands and said, ‘You are Kwa. You remember that. Kwa is strong. Kwa is good. You are Kwa. True Kwa. You have the name, but I also see the Kwa in you.’ She held my hands and my gaze for some time, and I was deeply touched by both her generosity and remark. Today I hope the necklace will be a sign of peace, and I fasten the chain carefully to make sure the small gold Chinese symbol faces outwards. ‘It means happy – happy and good luck,’ Clara said with my hands in hers. ‘You are happy. You are Kwa. I love you.’
Aunty Theresa’s condo is right across the road from the Shangri-La. She chose the location so she could use the hotel gym and pool, but as there isn’t anywhere to cross safely and traffic is so bad, it takes a full twenty minutes to drive around the block to the hotel entrance. As guards sweep the car for bombs I think of John and the kids, wondering what they’re doing now, glad they’re not here to see Kwa at its worst.
A doorman helps me out, then sashays ahead to join his colleague at the entrance. Together they open two heavy glass doors, just as the Sikh men did for me at the Mandarin Oriental, when I would eagerly skip behind Aunty on our way to Swatow Lace.
‘Could you kindly call up to Mr David Bryan’s room and let him know Miss Mimi Kwa has arrived?’ I ask the hotel attendant.
Her eyes widen. ‘Oh. Miss Mimi Kwa?’ Your parents Mrs Bryan and Mr Kwa were here this morning asking for access to your safe. When we told them there is no safety deposit under your name anyway, they became quite upset and shouted at us. I am very sorry to have caused them any inconveniences. Please can you send the hotel’s apologies to them?’
It takes a moment for this to sink in.
She gestures in the direction of the restaurant. ‘They went on for breakfast and billed it to David Bryan’s room.’
When I arrive upstairs, Aunty Clara is already in David and Sam’s room. We embrace, and Clara examines the gold disc pendant around my collar, ‘Oh ho lang, ho lang. Very beautiful’ she says and then the show begins. Sam adjusts a black velvet display tray identical to one you might find in a jeweller’s shop. Aunty Clara paws through the first few items Sam has laid out.
‘Now, Mother,’ says David, ‘you do realise you’re choosing for Josephine, don’t you? Not for yourself.’
‘Myself, yes, myself,’ she says absentmindedly. ‘But where are all the diamonds and the precious stones?’
The duplicity in the room is a multilayered cake you could cut with a knife, and the icing is Aunty Clara’s attempt to distract me from anything of potential value. ‘Look, look at this, how it shines,’ she gasps, holding up a cubic zirconia pendant that she and I both know perfectly well is not worth a penny. ‘It is a beautiful diamond – you should have this.’ There are a few real items that we left in the collection in the end, but this is not one of them.
She practises a little sleight of hand, shoving a genuine Rolex, with a fine black leather band, to her edge of the tray and concealing it under a flared sleeve – clearly worn for the occasion. She repeats this routine until she has accumulated too big a collection to hide, but she has gone too far to care. She puts on a gold bracelet and disappears into a reverie. ‘It’s a little big for me. I will need to have it resized. And this ring will need to be resized too.’
I head to the meeting with Tessie and Letty, Jay and I picking up Dad on the way. Like all chauffeurs, Jay bears silent witness and pretends not to listen in to Dad’s rant. ‘The executors are very cunning. They will make great difficulty for me. It is your duty to look after my interests. We are on the same side.’ Dad is starting off with a friendly approach today, and I hope he won’t go on the attack this time. The dragon narrows his eyes, dancing gracefully around his victim.
‘Dad, the issue with Aunty’s will is that it doesn’t say you get everything like you are telling everyone. It just says furniture and fixtures.’
The dragon’s blood ratchets up to a boil. ‘Shut up. You do as I say! If you don’t back me up, then everything is gone. They will take it all.’
Dad and I take the lift to Letty’s apartment, travelling in silence. He seethes, and I recalibrate for the next round.
Letty and Tessie are on the balcony, sitting at a lavish stone dining table surrounded by succulents and statues. The view is of a condominium courtyard shared by elite Manila residents; it is even more gentrified than Aunty Theresa’s wealthy neighbourhood. There is more of a Spanish influence at Letty’s.
Two maids subtly bow and exit backwards as if I might be the Queen herself, and Dad and I sit down. The maids return with Chinese tea and plates of simply delicious dumplings.
Dad kicks me under the table. I lower my gaze. I had forgotten to assume a meek facade, my only way to get through lunch without fuss.
Dad speaks with the executors as if I’m not there, pontificating about seniority and asking Letty and Tessie their ages. ‘I am at least ten years your senior. You are just young girls.’
The executors are looking to me for guidance.
‘You do not understand,’ Dad says, as we eat beautifully decorated, ornate desserts. ‘It is all mine. You women do not understand the Kwa family.’ I chew on a strap of mango garnish. ‘You do not interfere in our House.’ The chocolate fondant on the miniature cupcakes is delectable. ‘And my daughter is only a girl, how could she know anything?’
At this point, the highly educated and successful women entertaining us have clearly had enough.
Dad shakes with anger in the lift as we leave. The dragon’s eyes are red with rage. ‘You know nothing, daughter. You do not know what you are dealing with.’
The doors open, and I get out before the fire breath can burn me more.