Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians #3)(152)

       
         
       
        

The safe door creaked open, and when Nick peered inside, all he saw were small red leather-bound books, neatly arranged in stacks. He took one of them out and began flipping through its pages. Every page was written in Chinese, and Nick realized he was looking at his grandmother's private diaries, beginning from the time she was a child to her adulthood.

"Why are these here?" Nick was completely mystified.

Jirasit gave Nick a serene smile. "Your grandmother was a very private person, and I think she felt that this was the only place she could leave them for safekeeping, without the risk of anyone seeing them or censoring them after she was gone. She never wanted them kept in Singapore, and she never wanted them to leave this compound. You are the historian, from what I'm told, so she wanted you to have access to them. She told me you would one day come."

"Is this all there is? These diaries?" Nick asked, bending down to peer more closely into the dark safe.

"I believe so. Was there something else you were looking for?"

"I don't know. I guess I had imagined that she would have some other valuable treasures stored away in here," Nick said a little disappointedly.

Jirasit frowned. "Well you should read them, Nicholas. You may find a great many unexpected treasures within those pages. I'll leave you be, and perhaps we can meet up again for lunch at noon?"

Nick nodded, as he took a stack of journals out to the desk. Deciding that the best thing to do was read the journals chronologically, he reached to the bottom of the pile for the oldest journal. As he opened the cover gently, the leather binding cracking after decades of stillness, he began to hear his grandmother's young voice in her handwritten words.





March 1, 1943


It feels like we have been riding for a week, but Keng tells me it has only been three days. Whenever we reach a new outpost I ask him if we are still on the estate and he sighs frustratedly. Yes, we are. Apparently, my mother's family is the largest landowner in West Sumatra, and it would take a full week on horseback to traverse the estate. The highlands are glorious-rugged with a strange wildness to everything. On another trip, it might have even seemed romantic. If I had only known we would be spending so many days riding just to get to my brother's house, I would have brought my own saddle!





March 2, 1943


Finally arrived. They take me upstairs to see Ah Jit, and at first I don't understand what is going on. My brother lies unconscious, his handsome face so swollen and purple I can hardly recognize him. There is a deep, bloody gash on his right jaw that they are trying to keep from being infected. I asked what was going on? I thought the cholera was under control? "We didn't want to tell you till you got here. It's not cholera. He's bleeding internally. He was tortured by Japanese agents. They were trying to get him to give up the locations of some key people. They broke his body, but they couldn't break him." 





March 5, 1943


Ah Jit died yesterday. He was awake for a while, and I know he was happy to see me. He tried to talk, but I stopped him. I held him in my arms and kept whispering into his ear, "I know, I know. Don't worry. All is well." But all is not well. My darling brother is gone now and I have no idea what is to be done. This morning I walked outside into the garden and saw that all the rhododendron trees have bloomed overnight. Suddenly they are bursting with flowers, in shades of pink I never knew could exist. Blooms so thick, they brushed against my face as I walked through the garden weeping uncontrollably. Ah Jit knew how much I loved these flowers. He did this for me. I know he did.



Nick stared at the journal, feeling utterly confused. None of this made any sense. His great-uncle Ah Jit was tortured by the Japanese, and his grandmother was there? But wasn't she supposed to be in India during the war? He leafed through a few more pages, and a loose letter fell out. As Nick glanced over the crisp but yellowing letter, a chill ran down his spine. He couldn't believe his eyes.





CHAPTER SIX


THE STAR TREK HOUSE, SINGAPORE

Eleanor paced around the room restlessly. "She's late. Maybe she changed her mind."

"Aiyah, Eleanor, don't be so kan jyeong. She's not late. It's only two minutes past one. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll turn up," Lorena tried to assure her as she lounged on one of the plush white sofas in Carol's enormous poolside bedroom.

"Traffic was hideous today! My driver had to take two detours just to get here! I don't know what is wrong. It seems like traffic is getting worse and worse these days. What is the whole point of all these ERPs*1 when everywhere is so damn congested? I'm going to have Ronnie call our local MP and complain!" Nadine tut-tutted.