Sunday 31st March, 2019
‘Excuse me, Madam!’ Annabel was roused from sleep by a sing-song voice and a gentle hand on her shoulder. She raised her eye mask and blinked a couple of times before opening her eyes, momentarily confused by her surroundings. Her neck was sore from an awkward sleeping position and she rubbed it as she sat up.
‘Could you just pop your seat up while we’re serving?’ the smiling air stewardess asked in an overly bright voice.
‘Yes, of course,’ Annabel managed, before reaching for the lever. Then she wiped the sleep from her eyes, the dribble from the corner of her mouth and stretched to ease her aching back. She glanced at her watch, it was 8 a.m. But that was still UK time. She turned on the TV screen in front of her for more information and felt that nervous knot in her stomach again when she saw that they would be landing in just under two hours.
‘Would you like the chicken rice or the vegetarian omelette?’ The stewardess was back a few minutes later. Annabel opted for the chicken, then spent the next five minutes playing chess with the various dishes on the tiny meal tray, trying not to drop anything or spill her drink.
For about the one hundredth time that day – though, to be honest, she didn’t know which day it was anymore – she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She was exhausted and emotional after recent events, she now wondered if it had been such a great idea to jet off to unknown, distant shores.
It had been an impulse decision and quite out of character, Annabel now thought. She smiled to herself as she remembered the look of shock on Jenny’s face when she had told her the plan.
Dear Jenny, she had been an absolute rock when Annabel had turned up on her doorstep, hurt and angry over Luke’s deception. Annabel winced at the memory. She had known that things had changed, that everything had felt different between them, but she hadn’t expected Luke to jump into bed with someone new as soon as her back was turned.
Jenny had offered a glass of wine and a sympathetic ear, but she had not been surprised by the news of Luke’s philandering. That had been what she had needed to tell Annabel; that her cheating boyfriend had started swiping on the same dating app that Jenny used as soon as Annabel had left for Cornwall. He had come up in Jenny’s list of matches and, although he had done his best to disguise his identity – using a far-off photo of him on a beach in a baseball cap and sunglasses – Jenny had recognised him instantly. She had shown Annabel the screenshot she had taken of his dating profile picture.
‘Look, this is from your holiday to Mallorca, Annie; I recognised your red dress. I’m so sorry, hon.’
Annabel had stared at the photo, noticing her pretty red dress at the very edge of the picture, where he had cropped her out.
With Dotty’s passing, Jenny admitted that she had not known what to do. She said she had been stuck between a rock and a hard place, wondering when would be the best time to break the news to her friend. She seemed relieved that the secret was now out.
Annabel hadn’t cried that evening. After losing her beloved grandmother she felt like she didn’t have any tears left. She just ached inside. No more Dotty, no more Luke. It felt like her foundations had been shaken and everything had shifted. But Jenny had been there for her, providing a listening ear and distracting her by turning the conversation to Dotty’s secret letters.
Once they had chatted it all through, Annabel had announced her plan. ‘I’m going to go to Singapore,’ she had said, nodding decisively for emphasis. ‘I’m going to go and find this Julia woman. She’s the one who’ll be able to tell me all about it. Dad was saying I should head off somewhere new, it is the holidays after all!’
A few days later, the plan was in place, the tickets were booked and Annabel had set off to Heathrow. Jenny had helped her out by putting her in touch with her cousin, Emma, who had moved to Singapore the previous year when her husband got a transfer with his bank. Emma was a music teacher at an international school out there and Jenny had often voiced her ‘Facebook envy’ whenever Emma shared photos of her new life, usually involving rooftop bars, pool parties or exotic beaches.
Annabel had met Emma a few years earlier, at Jenny’s fortieth birthday party in Bath, and they had got on well. Jenny had put them in touch, messages had been exchanged and Emma had kindly offered Annabel a place to stay.
Before she knew it, Annabel was tidying away her hand luggage under the seat in front of her and fastening her seatbeltin preparation for landing. Through the window, she could see the coast of Singapore, a long, straight stretch where the turquoise waters fringed an endless line of tall, modern buildings. The late afternoon sun was casting a golden glow and the sky was turning a deep shade of indigo. Along the coastline, lights flickered on the ships. She was surprised to see so many along the bay, then remembered reading somewhere that it was one of the busiest ports in the world. The island itself, however, was tiny, measuring just thirty-one miles by seventeen.
It had been a smooth flight and the landing at Changi Airport was much the same. Within minutes, the plane was at the gate and Annabel was gathering her belongings to disembark. That knot of anxiety formed in her stomach again, but everything was fine as she made her way through immigration and baggage claim, and out to find a taxi. Emma had mentioned in her texts how well organised the airport was and Annabel was impressed. Even the taxi queue was smooth and efficient, with uniformed staff directing vehicles and passengers.
Stepping outside the cool airport building, however, had given her an introduction to the tropical Singapore climate. The sun had set quickly but despite its absence, the air was humid and sticky. Annabel longed to change into something cooler.
Within minutes, she was sitting in the back of one of the many blue and white taxis, enjoying the air conditioning as they drove away from the airport along a busy, three-laned highway. She marvelled at the never-ending mass of pink and purple flowers decorating the central reservation and the tunnel of trees through which they drove. Annabel was exhausted, but she felt herself relax a little; it all looked so beautiful and, for the first time, it occurred to her that she might actually enjoy her time here.
‘You on holiday, ma’am?’ the driver asked, his English punctuated by a strong Chinese-sounding accent. He caught her eye in the rear-view mirror, the wrinkles around his smiling eyes suggesting that he must be in his sixties.
‘Yes.’ Annabel returned the smile, deciding not to explain her real reason. ‘I’ve come to uncover the secret former life of my recently-deceased grandmother and find out what on earth she was doing here in the 1930s,’ probably wasn’t an appropriate response, so she went with, ‘I’m visiting some friends who live here. It’s my first time, it looks so lovely!’ Through the palm trees that lined the highway she caught sight of a long stretch of sandy beach beyond.
‘You have good time here.’ He nodded sagely. ‘Singapore very safe for tourist. But remember, low crime does not mean no crime. Always stay safe. And drink a lot of water; is very hot.’
Annabel nodded and thanked him for his advice, and was pleased when he slipped into tour guide mode, recommending places to visit during her stay.
‘And this big thing: Marina Bay Sands.’ He pointed at the enormous, futuristic building ahead of them. It rose up like a ship on top of three huge towers, overlooking the bay. ‘Is hotel, restaurants, shops, casino. Very big, very expensive. Fifty-five floor.’
‘Wow!’ She sighed, impressed. She had seen pictures of it, but the reality was something else. She remembered reading how it had been built on reclaimed land, that the only way the tiny island of Singapore could cater to its growing population was to extend its boundaries out into the ocean. ‘It’s amazing; it’s all so modern.’
‘Singapore change a lot.’ The driver nodded in agreement, ‘Is modern now. But before, many farms and kampongs –villages – here. Mr Lee Kuan Yew, he change all that; he make it modern.’
Annabel had read about Singapore’s history and recalled how Stamford Raffles had transformed the sleepy Malayan backwater into a thriving British trading post in the early 1800s. Then, under Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew’s forward-thinking leadership, it had become independent in 1965. Since then, it had gone from strength to strength, becoming one of the most important financial hubs in Asia.
They passed the endless skyscrapers of the downtown area and the driver’s commentary continued as they headed out towards Emma’s apartment complex in West Coast. Annabel’s eyelids were feeling heavy and she was glad when they eventually stopped at the entrance to Blue Ocean Condominium. They passed through the security gate and the driver pulled up outside the first block, informing her that they had arrived.
Annabel got out of the taxi and felt the muggy warmth of the evening envelop her. She looked around, taking it all in. Blue Ocean was a collection of tall white apartment blocks that formed a horseshoe around lush green gardens. In the centre was the crowning glory: a beautiful swimming pool. The sky was completely dark now, but the walkways were illuminated by pretty lights.
