Read Aunty Lee's Deadly Specials Online
Authors: Ovidia Yu
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cultural Heritage, #General
“Hello, Rosie.”
“Did you see all the food? Doesn’t it all look wonderful? Rosie, you’re so clever.
You must think about running classes for young women. Nowadays none of this younger
generation knows how to cook,” Mabel said.
“Mum, if she teaches the young women to cook for themselves, she’ll lose all her business,
ha ha!”
Aunty Lee beamed genially at Henry Sung. His wife ignored him.
“Or shall I just pass the bill to Mr. Sung?” Aunty Lee asked.
“Oh, Henry doesn’t have anything to do with this. Today’s party is hosted by my law
firm. My husband is the medical side of the family. He has nothing to do with the
law side of the family. We girls run the law business by ourselves. This is real feminism,
you know. You know Sharon was in school with your husband’s girl . . . what was her
name—Maureen? Maria? That one never came back from studying in England, right? Children
grow up so fast. One day they are in school and the next day they are taking over
the family business.”
“This is Cherril, my new partner, who is taking care of the beverages side of the
business for me.” Aunty Lee waved Cherril over to join them.
“Hello, Mrs. Sung, Mr. Sung.” Cherril Lim-Peters smiled. “Would you like to try our
new ginger–honey–almond milk freeze?” Henry accepted a glass, but Mabel Sung did not
believe in wasting time on unimportant things or people.
“I’m just going to put together a plate for Leonard. My son is not feeling well enough
to join us today but he doesn’t want to miss your wonderful food. He’s been so looking
forward to it. That’s your famous chicken
buah keluak,
right? I must take some of that for him.”
Watching Mabel ladle huge servings onto plates her husband was commandeered to carry,
Aunty Lee offered her a tray, which was graciously accepted, along with porcelain
ramekins for
achar
and
sambal
.
“I’ll be right back after I bring these up to him.”
“These drinks are good—try one!”
“Don’t be stupid, Henry. You know Lennie can’t take cold drinks.”
There was definitely some underlying tension and resentment there, Aunty Lee thought.
But with long-married couples, long-held resentments were sometimes the only thing
that kept them together. She watched as Mabel Sung and her tray of food were stopped
at the foot of the stairs by a slim, brown-skinned Chinese man.
“What?” Mabel demanded. “Not now! Can’t you see I’m busy?”
The man said something in a low voice that Aunty Lee could not catch despite her best
eavesdropping skills. However, she had no difficulty hearing Mabel’s response.
“I don’t see what for. None of the other guests are going up to the house, why should
you bring her there?”
Perhaps to use the toilet, Aunty Lee thought. Sometimes rich people overlooked the
most obvious things. And it was obvious from everything she saw around her that the
Sungs were rich people.
The man looked insistent. Again he said something Aunty Lee could not make out. Aunty
Lee reminded herself to dig out ML’s old hearing aid with its adjustable volume. Aunty
Lee could still hear what she was supposed to hear but she needed artificial assistance
to listen to everything else. She grabbed several
ondeh-ondeh
and headed toward them.
Mabel Sung’s lips set in a grim line and she shook her head but said, “Okay, okay,
okay,” to the thin dark man, who looked annoyed as Aunty Lee joined them.
“Mabel, you must take some of my
ondeh-ondeh
for your son to try. Very fresh, I made specially this morning. Sir, you want to
try? You take one bite, the
gula melaka
inside will burst out in your mouth!”
“This is Edmond Yong,” Mabel Sung said. “He’s a doctor and he’s helping to look after
my son. Edmond, of course you recognize our famous Aunty Lee?”
“I’m Dr. Yong, pleased to meet you. I am the doctor in residence responsible for Leonard
Sung’s health.”
“Is something wrong with your son?” Aunty Lee asked with hopeful interest.
“Oh no. Please don’t be alarmed. Nothing whatsoever is wrong. I just need you to excuse
our charming hostess for a moment.”
Aunty Lee thought Dr. Yong looked more like a poor relative than a guest or resident
doctor. He was obviously familiar with the place and people but seemed socially awkward.
Aunty Lee could tell his English, rather like Cherril’s, had been learned in school
rather than “absorbed with mother’s milk.” He was not one of those who had coasted
through school thanks to tutors and connections to emerge with an impressive degree
and even more impressive sense of entitlement. Aunty Lee was fond of such characters.
She liked Mabel Sung more for hiring him.
Aunt Lee watched as the young doctor introduced Mabel Sung to a young woman with long
hair. Now his manner reminded Aunty Lee of an irritatingly ingratiating insurance
agent. And the woman? Aunty Lee’s first impression was that she looked like a match
for Mabel Sung. She was probably in her thirties, but the makeup she was wearing made
her look older. She was dressed for a business meeting rather than a brunch party
and was clearly unfamiliar with her surroundings. Moreover, she was looking around
with a mixture of impatience and contempt designed to show that she was not impressed.
Aunty Lee could not hear most of the conversation but could tell that the three were
talking in Mandarin. It was the woman’s Mandarin accent that marked her as coming
from China rather than Singapore or Malaysia. In addition to English and Malay, Aunty
Lee could shop, gossip, and eavesdrop in Hokkien, Teochew, and Cantonese. Surely she
should be able to follow a simple Mandarin conversation? But no. All Aunty Lee could
tell was that the woman was the dominant party in the dialogue and Edmond Yong was
deferring to her. Indeed, even Mabel Sung was deferring to the woman, which Aunty
Lee found very strange. Mabel Sung looked like she was eager to please, and even a
little afraid of, the long-haired woman.
Aunty Lee looked around for Cherril and found her staring in the same direction as
she was. “I can’t believe it! What’s that guy doing here?”
Aunty Lee said, “He is here looking after the Sung boy. You know him, ah?”
“Like a bodyguard?”
“He said he’s a doctor, so I suppose like a medical bodyguard. The Sung boy is supposed
to be sick,” Aunty Lee said. “How do you know that man?” All her Aunty senses were
tingling and she was picking up discomfort, awkward memories, embarrassment . . .
this was no mere acquaintance of Cherril’s. “Ex-boyfriend, ah?”
“No way!”
“But he’s a doctor, right?” Aunty Lee pointed out, even more intrigued. On the Singaporean
marriage scale, doctors generally outranked lawyers like Cherril’s husband. Even if
Cherril found this particular doctor personally unappealing, she would not have dismissed
him so vehemently unless there was a story there. Aunty Lee was always ready to hear
a good story. To be on the safe side, she took the tray of celery and watermelon shooters
Cherril was carrying and put it on the table beside them.
“His name is Edmond Yong. He used to have a clinic at Bukit Timah Plaza,” Cherril
said. She pulled out an insulated carrier from where it had been concealed under the
overhanging tablecloth and emptied crushed ice into a large glass bowl. Thanks to
her years as a flight attendant on Singapore’s premier airline, Cherril could lift
weights like a bodybuilder while looking like a ballerina.
“Is he good?” Aunty Lee thought you could never know too many doctors.
“I don’t know. I didn’t go through with it. It was some time ago, before I married
Mycroft.”
“You were having health problems?”
“No—I was thinking about getting enhancements. Some enhancements, some reductions,
some adjustments . . . just the basic package. But in the end I decided against doing
it at Dr. Yong’s clinic.”
“You weren’t comfortable with Dr. Yong?”
“My friends said it’s a lot cheaper in Korea.” Cherril did not look up from arranging
the little glasses of juice in the bowl of ice.
Aunty Lee studied Cherril with new curiosity. Even her sharp eyes told her nothing
about whether the younger woman had received her assets from God or a plastic surgeon.
But Aunty Lee would have plenty of time to find out more about her new partner. Now
she had a party full of interesting people to examine. Mabel Sung herself, for example.
Studying Mabel Sung’s appearance with some attention, Aunty Lee could not see any
signs of either enhancement or reduction, not even where these procedures might most
usefully be applied. Mabel’s whole look said, “I am more powerful and important than
you, fear and respect me!” yet she was nodding docilely as she listened to the long-haired
woman.
“That PRC woman with your Dr. Yong. Do you know who she is?”
“Sorry, never saw her before. And he’s not
my
Dr. Yong.”
Aunty Lee felt something about the tall, long-haired woman was out of place. It was
not wrong or even unpleasant, just not quite right. This was not any kind of supernatural
intuition. Consciously cooking to please others had conditioned Aunty Lee to register
the tiniest variations in how people (and their food) looked, sounded, and smelled.
Though not always aware of what triggered it, she could sense when something was out
of place. Like sweet tapioca paste that had been stored in a jar formerly containing
clove or garlic oil, there was something about Dr. Yong’s woman friend that didn’t
fit here. Or perhaps it was Dr. Yong himself who was out of place . . . ?
Mabel Sung left them, waving a vague “I’ll be right back” at all her guests before
heading toward the stairs to the main house. Edmond Yong and the PRC woman continued
talking in low voices. Aunty Lee edged closer to the pair in much the same way she
would have turned up the volume on her television at home. Where was Nina when she
needed her?
Another young woman walked up and joined them, grabbing and squeezing Dr. Yong’s arm
in a playful greeting.
“Drinks? Edmond? What about your friend? Hi, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.
My name is GraceFaith Ang. I work with Mabel and Sharon and I’m also a member of Never
Say Die, so you could say I’ve got a double reason for being here today!”
The woman said something to Edmond Yong and walked away, ignoring GraceFaith, who
made a humorous moue.
“She doesn’t like other people talking to you? Who is she?”
“She’s just a business contact,” Edmond Yong said. “Nobody important.”
“Important enough for you to invite to a private party,” GraceFaith said, her playful
manner dropped. “Does Mabel know you brought a stranger to her house?”
“Wen Ling is not a stranger. In fact she came to meet Mabel. It’s a potential business
arrangement, but right now it’s still confidential,” Dr. Yong said.
GraceFaith immediately switched into coy girlish mode and shrieked demands for information
but Edmond Yong walked away. At least Aunt Lee had learned the long-haired woman’s
name.
GraceFaith was the carefully turned-out young woman who had come to Aunty Lee’s Delights
on Mabel Sung’s behalf to commission the brunch buffet. Despite Aunty Lee’s attempts
to push her superspicy
sotong
balls and
unagi otak
, they had settled on a fairly conventional menu.
“Some of the guests are not so adventurous when it comes to seafood.” GraceFaith explained.
“Vegetarian?” Aunty Lee guessed. Inspired by an American vegetarian acquaintance,
she had recently started experimenting with vegetarian versions of traditional Peranakan
dishes.
“No, of course not! All the people coming are Christians!”
Aunty Lee was always open to learning new things about her customers’ beliefs.
“Some Hindus and Buddhists are vegetarian for religious reasons but there are vegetarian
Christians too, right?”
“Oh, I daresay there are some weirdos. But don’t worry, you can prepare normal food.
Lennie would scream if anybody tried to make him eat vegetarian!”
“And Lennie is . . .”
“Leonard is Mabel’s son.” GraceFaith lowered her voice slightly. “He is having some
health issues, so praying for him is the main focus of Never Say Die now.”
Aunty Lee had heard of Never Say Die, a group that conducted focused prayer and active
healing sessions. Indeed her late husband had been invited to join the group after
his cancer was diagnosed but had dismissed them as “rich camels.”
“I remember you, you came to my shop to make the booking for Mabel,” Aunty Lee said
to GraceFaith. “You look very nice, by the way. So many young girls these days don’t
bother to dress up nicely. Just now you said you are part of that Never Die group.
What is wrong with you?”
“Never Say Die. It’s a prayer and healing group that Mabel joined when her son got
sick. She got the staff at the law firm to join too, to pray for him.” GraceFaith’s
eyes roamed the growing number of guests as she spoke till they settled on Henry Sung,
who was talking to an older woman at the foot of the stairs. Henry was still holding
the tray of food his wife had prepared for their son. Mabel was nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me.”
As she watched GraceFaith heading toward them Aunty Lee wondered why the woman Henry
Sung was talking to looked so familiar. The woman caught Aunty Lee’s eye and waved
at her with apparent delight, gesturing for her to join them. Aunty Lee waved back
but stayed put and tried to look busy. She would try to recall the woman’s name before
they met up.
Looking back on events later, Aunty Lee decided the real excitement of the day had
begun with the commotion at the back gate. There was shouting followed by a painful
crash as Henry Sung dropped the tray of food he was balancing on the stair rail. Aunty
Lee winced for her dishes but hurried away to the gate which Edmond Yong was trying
to slide shut despite the man’s arm caught in its heavy metal frame.