"Of course, Mummy. But don't worry-Prof Oon assures me your heart is improving every day. Even Malcolm said he's so pleased with your progress."
"That may be the case, but I know I can't live forever."
Alix didn't know what to say. She simply busied herself by straightening her mother's bedsheets and smoothing them out.
"Alix, you don't have to be afraid for me. I have no fear of death-you have no idea how many times I've stared it in the face. I just don't wish to be in any pain, that's all."
"Prof Oon is making sure of that," Alix said matter-of-factly.
"Alix, will you do me a favor? Will you call Freddie Tan and tell him to come over?"
"Er … Freddie Tan, your lawyer?" Alix asked, unnerved by the request.
"Yes. It's very important that I see him as soon as possible. His number is in the address book on my dressing table."
"Of course. I'll go and call him right now," Alix said.
Su Yi closed her eyes, attempting to relax for a moment. She was still trying to forget the look of hurt she had seen on Victoria's face after she had snapped at her. Stupid girl! The words came echoing back to her, from a memory far back in time …
"You stupid, stupid girl!"
Her father had snarled angrily when Su Yi had appeared in the basement of the shop house at Telok Ayer Street. "Do you know the fortune I spent, the number of favors I had to call in, just to get you safely out of Singapore? Why are you here?"
"Did you think I could just sit in the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel while I got news every day about all the terrible things that were happening back here? All the bombings, all the people being tortured and killed?"
"Which is exactly why I got you out of Singapore! On the last frigate out!"
"I didn't know what was happening here, Pa. I got news about everyone else-Tan Kah Kee, Uncle SQ, Uncle Tsai Kuen, but there was never any news of you. When Chin Tuan came to India, he said he hadn't heard any news about you. That's when I thought you had been captured or maybe even killed somewhere!"
"I told you you weren't going to hear from me. I told you I would be fine!"
"Fine? Look at you-hiding in a hole in the ground, dressed in rags!" Su Yi said, tears in her eyes as she looked at her father in his stained singlet and trousers full of cigar ash. She had never seen her father out of his three-piece suit before. With his head shaved and his face smeared with dirt, he looked almost unrecognizable.
"Silly girl! Don't you see I'm dressed like this on purpose? The only way to survive is to be invisible. I made myself look like an illiterate dockworker. The Japanese soldiers don't even bother to spit in my direction! Now how the hell did you get back into the country without getting yourself raped or killed?"
Su Yi gestured at the Thai silk dress she was wearing. "I crossed from India to Burma on the train, and then came down through Bangkok as part of the Thai ambassador's entourage-I'm disguised as a lady's maid to Princess Narisara Bhanubhakdi."
Shang Loong Ma let out a phlegmy laugh as he looked over his daughter. On the one hand, he was furious at her for coming back to a war-ravaged island, but on the other hand, he had to admire her resourcefulness. She knew how to be invisible too, and she had proved herself braver than her brothers. "What are we going to do with you, now that you're back? It's too dangerous for you to go to Tyersall Park, you know." He sighed.
"I'm going back to Tyersall Park whether you like it or not! I'm going to stay there and do everything I can to help anyone who is suffering and in danger."
Su Yi's father scoffed. "The Japanese control everything now. Where on earth did you get such an idea that you could actually be of help?"
"A priest told me, Pa. A young priest at the most beautiful temple on earth."
* * *
*1 Actually, there are 1,444 pillars in the temple, which also boasts 29 halls and 80 domes in a 48,000-square-foot area. Built by a wealthy Jain businessman named Dharma Shah, construction of the temple began in 1446 and took more than fifty years to complete. If you are ever in Jodhpur, please do yourself a favor and head to this amazing place instead of wasting your time and money buying cashmere throws from charming merchants who claim they were "handwoven exclusively for Hermès" (or Etro, or Kenzo) "in a nearby village that employs 800 women." They really weren't, and Richard Gere wasn't just there last week buying a hundred scarves either.
*2 Cantonese for "difficult, persnickety."