provided for, and the café had been started more as an outlet for her love of cooking (Aunty Lee had been selling pandan and peach cakes, pineapple tarts, and fried curry puffs out of her kitchen) than as a business venture. Indeed the late M. L. Lee had liked to joke that while other husbands had to buy their wives diamonds and Prada he had to buy his Rosie dishwashers and pan holders. Not that he had seemed to mind. He had been very proud of her.
Now Cherril was actively pursuing catering jobs and talking about buying advertising in lifestyle magazines. A recent attempt at franchising hadn’t worked out, but that hadn’t kept her down for long. Aunty Lee liked Cherril. Since they’d got to know each other over the murder of Cherril’s sister-in-law they had become closer than Aunty Lee was to Mathilda or Silly-nah.
Still she found Cherril’s youthful energy tiring at times. Aunty Lee knew she must have once been as young, but she could not remember ever having been as eager. She was certainly not as eager now.
Cherril had her mobile phone clamped between ear and shoulder saying: ‘No … I mean, yes, of course. But are you sure? Yes. Of course but …’ as she made notes on her iPad. Seeing Aunty Lee, she rolled her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the dining room, warning her they had visitors.
The spicy fragrance of a good chicken curry … especially one cooked in Aunty Lee’s rich, golden gravy … should have been enough to make anybody feel good but Cherril looked ill. She had taken on a job catering a high tea for a friend that afternoon and, from the tension in her voice, Aunty Lee could tell the news was not good.
But then again, Selina might have just said something to upset her. Cherril had been a stewardess on Singapore’s premier airline before her marriage and was trained to deal with emergencies ranging from drunks and heart attacks to babies and food allergies without smudging her mascara, but even she was not immune to Selina Lee.
‘Don’t worry, lah,’ Aunty Lee whispered to Cherril as she passed her. Even if Cherril’s plans for expansion didn’t work out, Aunty Lee would still have her little café shop – and the best traditional home-cooked Peranakan food in Singapore.
Aunty Lee put her kesum leaves in a glass bowl which she placed on a shelf inside the cool room. Aunty Lee loved her cool room. Mark had installed it for wine during his (failed) attempt at running a wine business. Now it stored all the ingredients that did not need refrigeration but could not survive long in Singapore’s hot, humid environment. Aunty Lee thought the cool room was one of the best things Mark had ever done. Backing out of the room as she carefully pulled the door shut behind her, Aunty Lee yelped as she bumped into someone.
‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ Selina was smiling but her eyes remained aggressive. ‘I was hoping to have a word with Nina first, but she disappeared outside somewhere when I tried to talk to her. She’s so shy, isn’t she?’
Aunty Lee knew Nina was not at all shy. She also knew Selina usually ignored Nina unless she was telling Aunty Lee off for paying Nina too much (‘Spoiling the market’) or giving her too much freedom (‘You let her use your computer, you let her drive your car … you don’t know what she’s getting up to!’) But Aunty Lee reminded herself of the coming baby and said: ‘Hello. Have you eaten yet?’ It was her way of saying nothing.
‘Hi,’ was all Mark said as he followed his wife into the kitchen.
‘I want to talk to you. It’s about the nursery school we are helping to set up,’ Selina said. ‘I need some help.’
‘What nursery school?’ Aunty Lee winced and steeled herself for another of Mark’s moneymaking schemes. Since M. L. Lee left the bulk of his estate to Aunty Lee, Mark and Selina had already persuaded her to finance several disastrous projects. But as Aunty Lee was intending to divide her own money between her two stepchildren, she thought it unfair to Mathilda to continue. Mark and Selina had already ‘borrowed’ far more than his share.
‘If you want money you have to talk to Darren.’ Darren Sim had been M. L. Lee’s investment officer at the bank. Aunty Lee had inherited his services along with her husband’s money. ‘I cannot invest any money without talking to Darren.’ Aunty Lee had already told Darren to say ‘No’ to any investments Mark came up with.
‘We’re not asking for your money!’ Selina snapped in her usual voice. Mark looked worried and started to say something, but Selina put a firm hand on his arm and reassembled the smile on her face. ‘We need your help with a problem, that’s all.’
‘Of course we will come and help you, Silly-Nah!’ Aunty Lee loved solving other people’s problems almost as much as she loved cooking, which was saying a lot. Friends and customers often brought her little puzzles and conundrums. As the late M. L. Lee had said, his ‘kiasu, kaypoh, em zhai se’ (tireless, fearless busybody) little wife was happiest when digging clues out of problems and marrow out of bones.
Of course, not everybody appreciated Aunty Lee’s advice. Indeed, Selina had described Aunty Lee’s previous attempts to help as ‘bossy interference’. This was the first time Selina had come to her for help, and Aunty Lee intended to enjoy it properly,
‘Come and sit down with me in the dining room. Tell me about your nursery school. How can we help?’
‘I don’t need you, just Nina. I want to borrow Nina for a few days. For a couple of weeks, at most. Just until Beth’s maid turns up or she gets a replacement from the agency.’
Nina had come in and was silently slicing and deseeding tomatoes. She looked up on hearing her name. Selina threw her one of what Aunty Lee called her ‘condensed milk’ smiles (thick, sticky, and over sweetened), and Nina looked alarmed.
‘Nina, my friend Beth’s maid disappeared two days ago. The early education nursery school we’re setting up is going to be run out of her house. It’s a very bad time right now because of all the renovations going on and deliveries and workers, and we need to get everything ready in time to show parents to get them to sign up for next year. Aunty Lee is always saying how much you helped her set up this place, right? Beth just needs somebody to clean up the mess and be there to keep an eye on the workers.’ Selina turned back to Aunty Lee. ‘I told her that Nina has been working for the family for years and is completely reliable. Look, I never ask you for favours. Don’t let me down.’
‘Hiyah, Silly. Your baby not even born yet. Why are you already worrying about what school to send it to? Anyway, Singapore got so many schools, what for want to start your own?’
‘Selina isn’t just trying to get our baby into KidStarters, she’s helping to set it up,’ Mark explained. ‘She’s one of the partners, and she’s going to be on the school board. We were considering homeschooling but there isn’t really a homeschooling network in Singapore. This way it will be like homeschooling only other people will be paying for it!’
‘We were looking at value-adding nursery schools when I met Beth Kwuan, and she told me she was setting up a playschool. Mark asked her whether it was going to be one of those Montessori places, and Beth said that in an environment as competitive as Singapore there’s no point wasting time on playing. Right from the start, while children’s minds are still open, they should learn to learn by learning! Otherwise how are they going to get ahead and stay ahead? They need to learn self-discipline and how to obey rules!’
From the fervent respect in Selina’s voice, Aunty Lee suspected she longed to have attended such a school herself.
‘Beth and I agreed on all points. I’m going to help set up the curriculum. Beth knows the Singapore education system inside out. She’s been a private
