Shin’s hand froze on my half-unbuttoned blouse. We sprang to our feet, a dull roaring in my ears. His face was crimson.
“Mother,” I said.
But she wasn’t looking at me. “How dare you touch my daughter!” Even then, I noticed she kept her voice down, hissing the words out.
“It’s not his fault, it’s mine!”
It was then that she slapped me. My mother had never hit me across the face before. Disciplined, yes, with a weak switch when I was smaller, though she was easily talked out of punishing me. But never like this: a blow that made me gasp. The strange and terrible thing was that all this took place in near silence. None of us dared to raise our voices in that hushed dark house. We knew what would happen if my stepfather woke up.
I gripped my mother’s frail shoulders, then let go. If I wanted to, I could easily have shoved her back. On the rooftop with Koh Beng, I’d fought desperately, kicking and scratching. But I couldn’t raise a hand to my mother. Neither could Shin. The two of us stood with bowed and guilty heads as she slumped suddenly, as if the life had gone out of her. “Didn’t I raise you properly?” she muttered. “Why are you doing this?”
“I love him,” I said.
“Love?” my mother said. “What were you thinking?”
She wept, then, in that dreadful, silent way that unnerved me. The way all of us had learned to cry in this house, without making a sound. Stricken, I found myself helplessly consoling her. It was always like this. No matter what happened, I’d try to save her. I glanced at Shin, signaling him to leave the kitchen.
But instead of heeding me, he knelt before her. I’d never seen Shin get on his knees to anyone, he was too proud, but now here he was lowering his head.
“Mother,” he said. “I’m serious about Ji Lin. Please let me marry her.”
At the word marriage, my mother’s body arched in a rictus, as though she was having a spasm. Alarmed, I caught her in my arms.
“You can’t get married,” she said faintly. “You’re family now. I absolutely forbid it.”
* * *
One of the appalling yet convenient things about being family is that you can trade dreadful accusations at night, then pretend next morning that nothing has happened. Because that’s exactly what we did at breakfast. We all came down, quiet and somber, and my mother dished out limp, steaming hanks of noodles. The noodles were bland, as though she’d forgotten how to cook. Her eyes were swollen, but she told my stepfather that she hadn’t slept because of a headache.
He grunted, and I hoped that he hadn’t noticed anything. After all, he was a heavy sleeper. Shin and I sat, unnaturally still, like two cardboard siblings in a perfect cardboard family.
“I’m going back to Singapore at the end of the week,” Shin announced.
My mother nodded. She bent over her tasteless noodles, just as my stepfather did.
“Ji Lin is coming with me,” said Shin. “She can get a job there.”
Now both heads went up.
My stepfather’s eyes narrowed. “Why her?”
“The truth is, there was a murder at the Batu Gajah hospital on Monday. Another orderly was killed by the same man who tried to shove Ji Lin off the roof. The police asked us not to talk about it, but there’s a scandal brewing. Why do you think the hospital is paying me for not working? In return, they’ve asked us both to leave the area.”
“Is that right?” his father said.
I glanced at Shin. He was an inspired liar, mixing half-truths and facts. “Yes. It will be in the newspaper soon.”
My mother let out an exclamation of horror, though her eyes filled with suspicion. I squeezed Shin’s hand under the table.
“You can ask Robert—his father’s on the Board,” I said.
It irked me how anything connected with Robert and his family carried weight with my mother. I could see the confusion on her face.
“They’ve arranged a position for me at a hospital in Singapore, as a trainee nurse. I’ll live in a dormitory.” This was pure fiction now, but nobody was stopping me. “Shin can take me down, because Robert doesn’t have the time.”
Robert again. But my mother wasn’t fooled, shaking her head vehemently. “No, you can’t go!”
My stepfather said, “What does Robert think about this plan of going to Singapore?”
“He wants me to study and get proper qualifications. And less scandal is better for his family.” Amazing how easy it was to lie when I really wanted something. I apologized to poor Robert in my head.
“If Robert thinks it’s a good idea, then it’s fine by me,” my stepfather said. And at that moment I was glad, so glad that he was hard and unyielding, only valuing the opinions of men. My mother’s protests were overruled; after all, she dared give no reason other than Singapore was too far away.
“Shin will take her down,” said my stepfather. “And she won’t be our responsibility for too long.”
“But Robert’s family is in Ipoh,” my mother said. She glanced from Shin to me in anguish, and I wondered if she would betray us. If so, we’d all suffer. My pulse raced unevenly. Shin had his most wooden look on, though a muscle twitched in his cheek.
“They have a house in Singapore,” he said, examining his noodles as though he couldn’t care less whether he took me along or not. “I’m sure he goes there all the time.”
My stepfather nodded. And so it was settled.
* * *
I should have been happy. Goodness knows, Shin was. He could hardly stop grinning as the days dwindled before our departure, though by unspoken agreement, we avoided each other completely. He bought railway tickets for us, and I went to see Mrs. Tham and clear out my room over her dress shop.
“Are you getting married?” she asked, as I folded the last of my meager possessions. No beating around the bush with her.
“No, I’m going to study nursing.” I’d repeated this lie so many times that it almost felt real to me, though I had to remind myself that I had no job prospects and nowhere to live. Still, I was buoyed by a simmering excitement.
“A nurse,” said Mrs. Tham thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’ll be good at that.”
“Why not?” I was stung by this casual assessment; she’d been pleased enough with my dressmaking skills.
“You’re bound to contradict the doctors. I think you’d better get married.”
I bent over to hide my smile.
“What makes you think I won’t contradict my husband?”
“Oh, you mustn’t do that!” She looked horrified, though we both knew perfectly well who ruled the Tham household. “Listen,” Mrs. Tham said, drawing close, “the secret to a happy marriage is to make him think it’s all his own idea. And of course, you should dress well and look as pretty as you can.”
She gave a dissatisfied sigh as she contemplated me. All her stylish work was undone, as I was wearing an old pair of cotton trousers and a worn shirt to pack. “Make sure you hang on to him—women will be over him like flies.”
Mrs. Tham gave me a knowing look as she went out, and I wondered whether she was talking about Robert, or someone else. She might have found out that Shin and I weren’t related; I wouldn’t put it past her.
* * *
I saw Hui, too. I couldn’t explain everything that had happened because of my promise to the police and the hospital director, but I tried my best.
“You could have told me you were quitting. I had to find out for myself.”
She was indignant and a bit hurt. I could only nod and say I was sorry. I really liked Hui—I’d never had a friend like her before, though I was afraid I’d sadly disappointed her by not sharing all my secrets
“Thank you for helping me with Robert,” I said, remembering how she’d flung herself into the fray, when Y. K. Wong had led him to the dance hall. “Be nice to him if you see him again.”
Hui rolled her eyes. “Rich young men are wasted on you.” But she smiled at last.
* * *
The conversation I most dreaded, however, was with my mother. There was no getting away from it; I could see it in her anguished glances, her trembling hands. Of all people, I’d hoped that once the shock was over, perhaps my mother would come around to it. After all, she loved both Shin and me—just not together. Well, there was a price to be paid for everything.
So I could only sit guiltily on my bed late one evening, after my stepfather was asleep, and let her scold me. Shin had, diplomatically, gone to Ming’s. The sight of him nowadays seemed to infuriate her. He’d gone from favored son to her daughter’s seducer, and nothing I said would change her mind.
“It’s not right,” she kept saying. “People will talk; it doesn’t seem proper. And Shin’s never kept a girlfriend long. What if he changes his mind?”
“Then I’ll just make my own way,” I said.