The Two Sisters of Borneo Read online

  The tea ceremony was a traditional way for Amanda and Michael to show respect to their elder relatives and very close family friends. There was a set order. The parents of the bride would be followed by those of the groom, and then the other relatives, in descending order from the oldest, would take their places on the chairs.

  Marcus and his first wife moved onto the dance floor. As they walked towards the two chairs, Ava felt discomfort at seeing her father with a woman who wasn’t her own mother. It was one thing to know Elizabeth Lee existed; it was another to see her on Ava’s father’s arm.

  Then there was Elizabeth’s appearance. She was dressed in an ankle-length cheongsam of gold and green brocade. It had a vase collar, exposing a long, slender neck adorned with a green jade necklace that matched her drop earrings. The cheongsam had full-length flared sleeves that flowed over her hands. The dress was slit on one side from the ankle to the knee, exposing a slim calf. The cheongsam, Ava had always thought, was a difficult dress to wear. It accentuated any physical shortcomings, suiting neither the too skinny nor the mildly plump. On Elizabeth Lee it looked like perfection.

  Ava knew she was about sixty, but it was still a surprise to see that her grey hair was verging on white. Wealthy Chinese women did not usually succumb to nature so easily. Her hair, cut fashionably short, framed a long, slim, fine-featured face. She was about five foot four, Ava guessed, and in heels came to just above her husband’s shoulder. She had a beautiful walk, slow, almost languorous, and certainly elegant. She moves like Maggie Cheung, Ava thought, and was startled by the comparison. Her own mother was often compared to the Hong Kong movie star, and some years ago, speaking about her father and his wives, Uncle had remarked that Marcus seemed to like one model of woman and just kept trading up for a new one.

  Marcus and Elizabeth passed by Peter and Ava on their way to the chairs. Elizabeth smiled at Peter as she and Marcus took their seats, and then she glanced at Ava with dark brown eyes that were not the least unkind. Ava averted her own eyes as she stepped forward with the cup. The Lees sipped their tea, offered their words of wisdom to the bride and groom, and passed over their red pocket.

  For the next half-hour a parade of aunts and uncles and friends made their way to the chairs. Ava knew none of them. Peter identified those who were associated with the Lee family, including his mother’s four sisters and brother. The sisters shot Ava murderous looks when she approached with the cups of tea, and turned away when she handed them to Amanda to pass on.

  After the second of his aunts snubbed Ava, Peter said, “I apologize for my aunts. They thought it was disrespectful to my mother for you to be invited to the wedding at all, and when they found out you were to be the maid of honour, well, it wasn’t pretty. There was even talk of their not coming.”

  “I heard that rumour.”

  “I’m glad they were more sensible than that.”

  Ava saw no reason to reply.

  “You do have to admit, though, that from their point of view it is a bit of an unusual situation,” he went on.

  “I’m not here as our father’s bastard daughter. I am here as a friend of Amanda.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said quickly.

  Ava looked into his face and saw no malice. “You didn’t,” she said.

  The end of the tea ceremony signalled the time for Amanda to change into the red dress. As Ava and Amanda left the ballroom together to go back to the suite, Ava could sense the aunts’ eyes on her. She hardly knew any of the guests. Hong Kong wasn’t home, and neither her mother nor Uncle ran in the social circles that filled the ballroom. The only people Ava knew, aside from the wedding party, were Simon To, Michael’s business partner, his wife, Jessie, and May Ling and Changxing Wong. Ava then realized she hadn’t seen May Ling since before the ceremony.

  “Did you see May Ling?” she asked Amanda.

  “No,” Amanda said distractedly, as she applied the finishing touches to her makeup.

  When they returned to the Grand Ballroom, the noise level had increased and the room was completely filled. They made their way to the head table and settled in for a meal that had taken hours of debate to decide upon; it would cost Marcus Lee close to US$700 per person — almost $700,000 in total. And that was just the food cost. Ava had no idea what the French red and white wines they were serving or the open bar with nothing but premium alcohol brands would add to the bill. The wedding guests would have expected nothing less. They were among Hong Kong’s elite and understood that Marcus Lee would never risk losing face at his eldest son’s wedding.

  Unlike most Western weddings, it was the parents of the groom and not the bride who bore the wedding costs. Ava knew from Amanda that Jack Yee, wealthy in his own right, had gone to Marcus and offered to pay half. She had no idea how the two men resolved the matter. The sign at the Hyatt’s ballroom door welcomed the guests on behalf of both the Lee and Yee families, and the place cards at each table welcomed them to the union of the Lees and Yees. Ava suspected that Jack had increased his daughter’s dowry and paid for some of the pre-wedding events, while Marcus had looked after everything else.

  The men were all dressed in designer suits, most costing more than $2,000. Some were custom-made by Jay Kos in New York or H. Huntsman in London. The ties they wore were as distinctive; at one table Ava could pick out a Gucci, Fendi, Hermès, and Armani.

  However well dressed the men were, the women who accompanied them were made up and coiffed to the extreme. They wore a range of luxury gowns and platinum jewellery studded with diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and jade that ranged from bright green to white and everything in between. No one dressed down. They had money, or their husbands did, and they weren’t reluctant to wear it. These were first wives, mainly an older crowd, given their relationships to the Yee and Lee families, but unlike Elizabeth Lee, they didn’t make any concession to age.

  On the way back to the banquet, Ava and Amanda had passed Jamie and David Lee, Michael’s youngest brothers, who stood by two tables decorated with pictures of the bride and groom. On each table was a box covered in white silk. As the guests filed in, they stopped to slip a red pocket into the box. Amanda guessed the couple might collect as much as HK$5 million in gifts. Whatever it was, it would be enough to give them a solid financial footing as they began their marriage.

  Ava and Amanda took their seats at the head table, which was directly in front of the dance floor, the other tables spread out to the right and left. The nearest on the left was occupied by the Yee family, and to the right were the Lees: Marcus, Elizabeth, and her sisters and brother with their spouses. The sisters had their eyes fixed on the head table — fixed on Ava. She tried to ignore them, but her gaze kept drifting back to their table and her discomfort kept growing. Ava looked over their heads, searching the room for friendlier faces, but her attention was inevitably drawn back to the Lee family’s table, where the aunties continued to glare. They want me dead, Ava thought.

  Ava lowered her head, trying to shut them out of her mind. When she looked up, she saw that Elizabeth was speaking to them and motioning towards the head table. Then she stood up and walked onto the dance floor. She moved with the same measured gait with which she had approached the tea ceremony, and Ava was again struck by her elegance. Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the dance floor as if getting her bearings, and then turned and walked directly towards Ava.

  A hush fell over the room. Ava thought she could hear her heart beating.

  Elizabeth stopped about ten metres from the table and then said in a voice that carried, “Ava, could you come here, please.”

  Ava felt Amanda stiffen and heard Michael say, “Mother . . .”

  She pushed her chair back and began to rise. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus start to get out of his own seat. She looked at him and shook her head.

  It was five steps from the head table to the dance floor. Ava took them s
lowly, trying to look casual when all she could feel was utter embarrassment. As she neared Elizabeth Lee, she could hear murmurs and whispers.

  “Ava,” the older woman said, extending her arms at waist height, her hands open, palms up. Ava froze. Elizabeth moved forward and grasped Ava’s hands with her own. “I want to apologize for my sisters’ behaviour,” she said.

  Ava’s face flushed, and when she tried to speak, all she could muster was a slight stutter.

  “None of them understand what you have done for the entire Lee family.” The older woman pulled back and cocked her head to one side. “Michael told me you were pretty, and for once he understated the facts. You are a stunning young woman, perhaps a bit too much like your father for my liking, but what can we do about that?” she said, and smiled.

  “You are very kind.”

  “Now, Ava, we are not going to be friends — I’m too old-fashioned for that. But I am pleased that you are friends with Amanda and Michael, and perhaps that can also be true for some of my other sons.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I want you to tell your mother when you talk to her next that I think she has an absolutely marvellous daughter, and I congratulate her on a job well done.”

  “I will be sure to tell her.”

  Elizabeth leaned over and whispered in Ava’s ear, “While we still have everyone’s attention, why don’t you give me a hug?”

  Ava leaned forward. They wrapped their arms around one another, neither of them gripping tightly, the gesture more important than the feelings behind the embrace.

  ( 3 )

  The dinner was near perfection. Eight dishes were served — a number that was both traditional and lucky. Marcus Lee had insisted on making every dish something special. As the costs spiralled, Amanda and Michael had become appalled, but Marcus wouldn’t be deterred. “My oldest son is getting married to Jack Yee’s only child. This has to be done correctly,” he said.

  “This is more about your face,” his son said.

  “Not more . . . maybe as much,” he conceded. “In any event, I want to make this the best wedding meal anyone has ever had.”

  The waiters marched in with the first course: barbecued suckling pigs on huge trays, the golden skin glistening under the overhead lights. At each table a server carved slices of crackling and laid them out on a platter. The guests placed the crackling on thin white pancakes that were almost transparent, then added hoisin sauce to finish the dish. The pig was traditional and symbolic, representing virginity.

  The arrival of the abalone caused the room to buzz. Ava looked at the Lee family table and saw that Marcus had a big smile on his face. Amanda and Michael would have been content to go with ordinary sliced abalone, but Marcus had insisted on serving whole abalone, then went a step further by asking the hotel catering manager to get the Yoshihama variety from Japan. Each plate of abalone — braised for several days until it was golden brown, glittering like liquid gold and served with black mushrooms — was costing Marcus Lee more than US$100.

  Next was shark-fin soup. The fin was actually from the sawfish, a shark-like ray considered by connoisseurs to be the finest raw source in the world. It was double-boiled and served with bamboo fungus. The first taste brought a smile to Ava’s lips; a few minutes later, when more tables had been served, she could see heads nodding in appreciation.

  A short break was scheduled after the soup to give Amanda time to change. As she and Ava walked back to the suite, Amanda asked, “What did Elizabeth say to you?”

  The other bridesmaids were with them, and Ava could see they were pretending not to listen.

  “She said she was pleased that I was maid of honour.”

  “It was a bit of a shock when she came towards you like that.”

  “For me as well.”

  “Although there was nothing to worry about. We did discuss it with her quite thoroughly, and she is . . . well, she is really a very good woman.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” Ava said.

  Ava hadn’t been misleading Amanda when she said Elizabeth Lee’s action was a shock, but the real shock had been just how gracious she was. It was one thing to agree to have Ava play such a visible role at the wedding, but it was another for her to acknowledge her husband’s daughter in such a warm and public way. Until now Elizabeth had been just a name — an anonymous, important, perpetual presence. Now she was real, and Ava had to figure out how to fit Elizabeth into her perception of family.

  Amanda changed quickly into an electric blue silk evening gown. Then the bridal party made their way back to the ballroom, where the waiters were hovering, waiting for their return so they could serve the fourth course.

  As Ava walked into the ballroom she heard her name called. May Ling and Changxing Wong were standing just inside the doors. Ava went over to them. He gave her a tiny smile as she kissed his right cheek. May offered her arms and the women hugged. Ava looked into her friend’s face and saw unfamiliar lines under eyes that seemed distracted.

  “Sorry to be late,” May said.

  “I had a conference call to Beijing,” Changxing said.

  “You missed the shark-fin soup. But no matter, I’m just glad you made it.”

  “I’m not sure how long we will stay,” Changxing said. “We’re both really tired.”

  “It will be a hectic evening, so I’m sure no one will think it strange if you have to go.”

  “In case we don’t see you later, I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” May said.

  “Of course,” Ava replied.

  Changxing glanced nervously at his wife. “We had better find our table,” he said as a line of waiters moved past them with trays of sea cucumber and shrimp. He put his arm around May’s waist as if shielding her.

  Ava hurried to catch up to Amanda. When she reached the head table, she could see May Ling and Changxing wending their way through the ballroom, attracting attention as they did. He was a rather ordinary-looking man, of medium height and medium build, with a small, round face and short hair combed straight back. Take away his Armani suit and Hermès tie and he could have been mistaken for any small-time Chinese businessman. But he wasn’t ordinary. He was the wealthiest man in a province of more than fifty million people, which is why people called him the Emperor of Hubei. Even in Hong Kong, at an event replete with multimillionaires, he was a man who merited notice. Money spoke in Hong Kong, and the more you had, the louder it spoke. Anyone in that room who was anyone knew about Changxing Wong.

  “Look at those women staring at May,” Amanda said. “Even in a simple black dress she makes them jealous.”

  Ava hadn’t paid any attention to how May was dressed when she saw her at the door. Now she looked at what was indeed a simple black dress, cut just to the middle of the knee, with spaghetti straps and a gentle V-line at her ample bosom. Her jewellery was just as plain: a pearl necklace and diamond earrings with pearl drops.

  “You can’t buy her bone structure,” Ava said.

  “Or yours,” Amanda said as a plate of sea cucumber was placed in front of her.

  “Let’s eat,” Ava said.

  The sea cucumber had been stewed with shrimp, shrimp roe, and spring onions. It was another symbolic dish, one representing harmony. Michael and Amanda fed each other tiny portions, to the delight of the guests.

  “I’m already getting full,” Amanda said as they cleared the plates.

  “The lobster and chicken are next,” Ava said.

  “God.”

  The lobster and chicken officially made one dish, the classic dragon and phoenix combination — yin and yang — representing balance in the marriage. Ava had almost had enough as well, but lobster wok-fried in ginger and garlic with applewood smoked chicken was too good to pass up.

  The sixth course was steamed fish. The word fish in Chinese is pronounced the same as abundance. The cat
erer had wanted to use farmed fish, but Marcus had insisted it be sea-caught because it was considered luckier.

  “I can’t eat any more,” Amanda said.

  “Nibble,” Ava said.

  Rice was the seventh course. Despite their protestations, neither Amanda nor Ava could resist digging into the aromatic combination of rice, egg whites, shredded crabmeat, pine nuts, scallops, and shrimp.

  “Just the noodles left,” Ava said.

  “And dessert.”

  They both picked at the noodles, which had been fried with a variety of exotic mushrooms.

  As they waited for dessert, which did not count as one of the eight dishes, Marcus Lee came to visit with the newlyweds. He beamed. “It was wonderful, yes?”

  “Dad, you couldn’t have done better,” Michael said.

  “It was amazing,” Ava added.

  “I’ve had some people tell me it’s the best wedding dinner they’ve ever had.”

  As if on cue, two men approached Marcus with words of praise on their lips. “Wait until you try the dessert,” he told them. “Double-boiled imperial bird’s-nest soup with coconut cream and rock sugar.”

  Ava groaned. “It sounds sublime.”

  Full or not, Ava ate it all.

  “One more trek to the room,” Amanda said when the meal finally ended.

  Her whole bridal party joined in to help Amanda change into her last outfit, a gold and blue cheongsam with a slit on one side that exposed her thigh.

  When they returned to the ballroom, Michael was waiting by the door with May Ling and Changxing. He was holding a red pocket they had obviously just given to him. When May saw Amanda, she said, “You look stunning.”

  Amanda bowed her head.

  “Here, this is for you. Something a little extra,” May said, handing her another pocket.

  “That isn’t necessary.”