Annabel’s heart was racing as she reached up and knocked on the apartment door. It was the next afternoon and they were high up on the fourteenth floor of an apartment block, standing on the long balcony walkway that ran along the front doors. She looked up and checked the number one more time. Yes, this was the right one.
‘Relax, Sherlock, it’ll be fine.’ James smiled encouragingly and gave her a wink, and she felt suddenly grateful for his presence. The touch of his hand in the small of her back felt strange, yet somehow comforting. For so long, it had been Luke who had stood beside her, supporting her. But not anymore. She felt a brief pang of grief at his absence, but, this time, managed to squash the sensation as quickly as it had arrived. It was definitely progress.
Annabel looked up at James and managed a small smile. ‘I hope so,’ she whispered back. ‘By the way, thanks, James,’ she continued. ‘I really appreciate you pulling strings to find Julia for me.’
‘Well, you’ve got me there.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘It was hardly any great detective work in the end. I happened to mention her name to a colleague in front of one of our admin staff,Alvin. It turns out Alvin plays tennis with Julia’s husband; they were at school together.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘So, unfortunately, I can’t take much praise for my sleuthing skills on this occasion.’
Annabel’s face relaxed and she laughed. At that moment, footsteps approached from inside the apartment and she swallowed nervously.
Until this evening, ‘Ang Mo Kio’ had just been a strange name written as part of a strange address in a strange land. But now she was here, in the place where Dotty’s Ah Ling had lived, and it felt unnervingly real. It was all so different from the ‘expat’ Singapore that Annabel had got to know over the last few days and she felt quite out of her depth. No glitzy condos or shiny rooftop bars here, instead it was a peaceful residential neighbourhood of densely populated, uniform apartment blocks. Some of them were painted in bright colours and many had long poles protruding from their windows, making the most of the afternoon sunshine to dry laundry. On the way there, they had driven past shops and schools, and Annabel had been surprised by the amount of greenery. Singapore was such an urban jungle, but she liked the way that green spaces were protected. This was definitely more of an area for local Singaporeans, and they had drawn curious glances as they’d walked across the car park to the apartment block.
The latch clicked and the door opened to reveal a little old lady with snowy white hair. She was dressed in a pink silk blouse and navy-blue trousers, but it was her smile that caught Annabel’s attention. It lit up her whole face and Annabel’s nerves instantly ebbed away.
‘You are Annabel!’ The old lady beamed up at her. She had a slight hunch, but even at full height she would have beenat least six inches shorter than Annabel. ‘How lovely it is to meet you!’
‘Julia?’ Annabel smiled back, trying to mask her confusion. She was so much older than Annabel had been expecting and her English was more halting than it had been on the phone. They had only chatted for a couple of minutes, but this was not how she had pictured Julia Chan.
The old lady laughed and reached out to clasp Annabel’s hand. Her voice had a birdlike, sing-song quality.
‘Aiyoh, better don’t let my daughter hear you say that, ah! No lah, I’m Mei, Julia’s mummy. Wah, who’s this handsome young man? She squinted, looking up at James who was towering over her. Your husband, ah? Wah, so good looking! Come, come!’
Annabel followed Mei across the threshold and into a long, narrow living area, all the while protesting that James was not her husband. But the old lady wasn’t listening.
‘Julia!’ she called through a doorway that opened off the lounge, whilst indicating for the visitors to take a seat. She called again, louder this time and in a different language; Chinese, Annabel supposed.
‘Sorry ah,’ Mei said, smiling apologetically. ‘Is easier for me in Cantonese!’
Annabel looked around the room, taking it all in. It felt like they had stepped back in time; the simple decor and retro furnishings were pure 1970s.
‘What a wonderful place!’ she said, before sitting next to James on a wooden sofa with olive-green velour cushions. Mei sat next to them in a matching, high-backed armchair.
The old lady nodded approvingly. ‘M-goi!’ Annabel wasn’t sure what the words meant, but figured that she was being thanked. ‘This was my mother’s home,’ Mei continued, ‘Ah Ling.’
It all made sense; this apartment, just like its former owner, was from a distant time. The furniture was all made of dark brown wood and the floor was a light brown lino with swirling geometric patterns. A gilded birdcage sparkled where it hung in the far corner of the room and green leafy ferns lent a splash of colour in their large, terracotta pots. Just inside the front door, the small, old-fashioned television was playing something in Chinese. Mei picked up the remote control from the table next to her armchair and turned the volume down.
The slats of the main window were open and a cool breeze drifted through the room. The window looked out onto the covered entrance walkway, which lent shade to the apartment from the fierce Singaporean sun. The whole effect made the room feel a little dark, but pleasantly cool. A small desk sat below the window and old family photos adorned the walls. The whole room could have been displayed in a museum; it was fabulous.
‘Annabel, hello!’ Julia Chan appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of cups and saucers. ‘I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, I was just making some tea!’
Annabel rose from the sofa and smiled as she stepped forward to greet Julia and introduce James. Like her mother Mei, Julia was petite and smart. Annabel estimated that she was in her early fifties, but her smooth skin made her look much younger. Julia’s black hair was cut in a sharp bob and she was dressed in a navy-blue suit as if she’d recently come from work.
Julia set the tray down on the small dining table and introductions were made.
‘I am so happy to meet you, Annabel,’ she said as she poured the tea. ‘Our families have such a long connection, I almost feellike I know you already. In her letters, Dorothy told Po Po all about your family.’
‘Po Po?’ Annabel asked.
Julia chuckled. ‘Sorry, it means Granny in Cantonese. I think our grandmothers would be very happy to know we were meeting, don’t you?’ She smiled at Annabel and handed her a cup of steaming green tea.
‘Yes, I do. Thank you,’ she said, taking the cup and putting it on the small coffee table in front of her. ‘Although you definitely have a head start on me; as I said on the phone, I’m afraid I only found out about my grandmother’s connection to Singapore last week. But it’s absolutely fascinating and I’m eager to find out as much as I can.’
‘Well I hope you don’t mind me dragging you all the way out here to the Heartlands, it’s a bit of a trek from town, I’m afraid. But I thought it appropriate to meet here, in my grandmother, Ah Ling’s home. Mama lives here now. I live closer to town – Bukit Timah – it’s easier for work.’ She smiled. ‘Call me sentimental, but I thought maybe you might like to come and see where Ah Ling lived and get a sense of who she was. As you can see’ – she gestured around the apartment with a wry smile – ‘Mama hasn’t had the heart to change anything since she passed!’
‘That was her writing desk,’ Julia said, motioning towards a narrow wooden desk beneath the birdcage at the back of the room. ‘She was a great letter writer; always busy keeping in touch with her friends and family.’
Instinctively, Annabel got up and went over to touch the solid wood of the desktop. She looked up at the empty birdcage above and imagined a time gone by when birdsong accompanied Ah Ling’s letter writing. She felt a lump form in her throat.
‘How strange to think of her letters coming from this very writing desk all the way across the world to Dotty in Cornwall,’ Annabel said.
