Jane Vejjajiva (8 page)

I knew that some day you would come here.

It was close to noon when the car turned into a laneway that broke off from the busy main road. In an instant the heavy traffic receded into the distance. Big East Indian walnut trees grew at intervals along the lane, and to the right ran a little canal. It was nothing like the home by the sea that Kati had left, and vastly different from the home on the water to which she had not yet returned. Yet somehow, the home in the city captured Kati’s attention from the instant she first set foot in it.

The entrance hall was floored with marble. The noise from Aunt Da’s high heels echoed in the silence as Kati followed her across the foyer. They took a lift to the thirteenth floor and Uncle Kunn turned to tell Kati that Mother had liked the number thirteen.

‘When she was looking for an apartment she was very pleased to find this one on the thirteenth floor,’ he said.

‘Patra said she wanted Kati to be the one who opened the door,’ Kati heard Aunt Da whisper to Uncle Kunn. Uncle Kunn bit his lip before handing Kati a red key ring in the shape of a star.

It seemed that Mother had sketched out every detail of what would happen after she left them. It made Kati feel as if Mother was still close by, and helped to ease the dreadful emptiness she felt in her chest.

The olive-green door opened with a strong push from Kati. How long had passed, she wondered, since Mother had been strong enough to open this door by herself?

The polished parquet floor complemented the cream-coloured walls. The comfortable sofa with its pattern of tiny green, yellow and white flowers added to the cosy atmosphere. Everything in the room had been designed to fit together beautifully, reflecting the personality of the departed owner. Kati still held the key ring, and now she unlocked one room after another. It was as though she was opening doors to the past, the past that she wanted so much to know.

There was one big bedroom, and a quick glance was enough to tell Kati it had been Mother’s room. Next to it were two small bedrooms. One had belonged to a child; this must have been Kati’s own room. Another was perhaps a guest bedroom as it was rather sparsely furnished. Kati guessed it had been used for a nurse like Wannee.

Finally there was a set of stairs leading up to the floor above. But here Aunt Da pulled Kati back, shaking her head. ‘Better leave that till later.’

The kitchen had big windows which were an invitation to look down onto the luxuriant trees that grew in a garden below. Uncle Kunn said the garden belonged to an ambassador’s residence, and sometimes at night there were parties: the house was decorated with lights and the pretty music wafted up to the thirteenth floor. Kati saw lots of birds she’d never seen before – Tong would have loved to see them and discover what kinds of birds would come to live in the middle of a city.

Kati sat on a tall stool in front of a counter while Aunt Da heated up some food they had bought along the way. Uncle Kunn took plates, spoons and forks down from the cupboards. It seemed that Aunt Da and Uncle Kunn knew the apartment very well. Kati noticed Aunt Da had tears in her eyes and her nose was red. Clearly this whole place spoke to them of Mother. Many objects in the apartment seemed strangely familiar to Kati: memories hidden away in the deepest recesses of her mind, only now being awoken from their long slumber.

On the key ring was one key which Kati had not yet used. It must belong to the room upstairs, the room that Aunt Da did not want her to see just yet. Something awaited Kati on the other side of that last door.

This afternoon Kati would find out what that something was.

You became my future as my own life began its countdown.

The room upstairs was in complete darkness until Uncle Dong drew back the heavy curtains to let the daylight in. Kati squinted in the light and found herself standing in a room half the size of the one downstairs. A big cream-coloured desk dominated the room, with a leather-upholstered chair placed behind it. The chair looked so inviting that Kati sat herself down, while Uncle Dong stood beside her, his arms crossed, looking out the window on the scene below.

Kati sensed that this particular moment belonged to Uncle Dong. When he turned his face to Kati, he looked strange. Gone was all trace of teasing or merriment. He stood in a formal pose with one hand held out to the right. On another occasion, Kati might have said he looked like a guide taking her round a museum. Kati had been on a school excursion to
Vimanmek
, the Teak Palace, and it had made her feel the same way she felt now. Except in this museum she was the only visitor.

‘Your mother arranged this room just after she began to get ill. Before that she used it as an ordinary office. You probably won’t be able to see it all in a day, starting from that corner over there…’

Kati turned to look where Uncle Dong’s hand was pointing. There was a long cabinet that took up the entire wall, divided into little drawers, shelves, and glass-fronted display cases.

‘Your mother wanted you to know her as well as you possibly could. If you don’t count your grandpa and grandma, I’m probably the person who knew her the longest time. So she chose me to bring you here.’

His voice was huskier than usual. Kati had almost forgotten that Uncle Dong was actually related to Mother. Uncle Dong’s mother and Grandma had been cousins, but Uncle Dong only became friends with Mother when they were both at the same university.

‘Some people prepare a memorial book for their own funeral so those they leave behind will have something to remember them by. Your mother arranged this room especially for you. She gathered together everything that would speak to you of her life. Anything you want to know about your mother, you’ll find here.’

Kati wanted to know every minute of Mother’s life. Although, deep in her heart, she knew there was one period in which she was particularly interested.

Every drawer was numbered with a year. Mother was born in 1965 right here in Bangkok. The first row of drawers held her childhood. Kati opened a few drawers and found neat stacks of albums. Another drawer held notebooks with her school reports, certificates, prize medallions for English, and even handicraft work carefully placed in plastic. A folder containing a knitted woolly scarf bore a label in big letters saying that Grandma had knitted it for her to hand in to her teacher. The label of a smaller packet told Kati that this was Mother’s own handiwork that she’d had to knit in class when the teacher’s eyes were upon her, but hadn’t been good enough for marking.

Kati looked up at Uncle Dong, who was sitting on the pretty carpet not far from the cabinet.

‘That’s your mother’s own handwriting; the later packets are mine or Kunn’s or Da’s. She tape-recorded some messages too. But no videos. Kunn wanted to film your mother but she wouldn’t let him.’

If Grandma had seen these she would have wept buckets. The day before, she’d been folding away some of Mother’s rugs and coverlets and that had distressed her greatly. Grandpa had said you didn’t need to go and see sad movies anymore, you could stay home and watch Grandma instead.

Kati continued on to Mother’s university years. When she finished her BA, Mother had sat for the Thai Bar exam before going overseas. Mother had gone on to get two more degrees from two universities in England. Kati felt she was getting close to finding out what she needed to know.

She did not notice exactly when Uncle Dong got up off the floor, but now he picked up Kati and carried her over to the rocking chair by the window.

‘There’s something I want to tell you, so let’s leave the drawers for a while, shall we?’

You were my one true love.

‘That year I went to the flower show in Holland as I do every year. Your mother rang me – she was really keen for me to have a stopover in London. At that stage your mother had started work as an articled clerk. She was renting an apartment with a European friend who was a flight attendant and was always away. Your mother said I could come and stay with her. She promised to take me to see all the sights, but there was something about the sparkle in her voice that made me think she wanted me to see more than just sights.

‘And it was so. Your mother came to pick me up at the airport. She was laughing and happy all through the journey on the underground train. My backside hadn’t touched down on the sofa before she was telling me that she had something she wanted me to see, a picture of this male friend she was spending time with. I thought to myself, this must be serious, because your mother had never been particularly interested in anyone. She was fond of saying that men didn’t go for girls like her. She maintained that men didn’t like girls who were sure of themselves and knew what they wanted in life.’

Kati must have looked puzzled at this, because Uncle Dong laughed and said that if Mother was right, Kati should keep that uncertain look permanently, so that when she grew up she wouldn’t be lonely.

‘At first I thought he must be a Thai but your mother said no, he was from one of our neighbouring countries but had grown up in England. Actually he was even more handsome than he appeared in the photographs. Ti, if you want to have a look, go and fetch me the album from the third drawer down.’

This drawer was labelled with the year along with an English name that Kati guessed was the law firm where Mother had been doing her articles that year.

Mother was smiling beside a tall dark-eyed dark
haired man. Kati felt a bit odd looking at the photo of this strange man. She knew right away who he was – his eyes were exactly like hers. She turned her gaze to Mother’s clothes. She heard Uncle Dong say they had gone to a performance of
Carmen
at Hampton Court. It had been very grand. The whole palace was decorated with white lilies. It was a charity performance which meant you could take pleasure from helping a good cause and enjoy yourself at the same time. Mother wore a black dress which was fashionably off the shoulder. Her hair was gathered up to show off her elegant neck and the tiny diamonds in her ears shone no more brilliantly than her eyes.

Anthony Summer was a webmaster. He’d known Mother from when she started working in internet law. Uncle Dong said he could never forget how happy Mother had been, so he wasn’t at all surprised when they announced their engagement. In fact, Uncle Dong thought they might have run off and got married even earlier had it not been for the fact that her work took Mother to Hong Kong at that stage.

‘I believe that there is a special time for everything in our life, Kati. Your mother rang to ask my advice on whether or not she should go to Hong Kong. She was a very organised person so she only wanted someone with whom to share her plans. I said, oh yes, and sure thing, but one thing I did say was that true love would last the distance, and that if their love couldn’t pass this little test then it wasn’t true love but a fake and it would be better for her if she knew this right away. I went and met up with your mother in Hong Kong too. It was a lot closer than London. At one glance I could tell that your mother had made the right decision in coming. Her boss had given her a great opportunity and she could expect a very bright future. We had a great time in Hong Kong.’

Uncle Dong was silent for a long time as he recalled those happy times when their future stretched long before them.

All at once it seemed that Uncle Dong had thought of something important. He got up and went to a sideboard opposite, one shelf of which was crammed with books. Kati had just noticed that there was a storage cupboard attached to it as well, and Uncle Dong opened the cupboard door and took something out.

‘Here, Kati – this suitcase was your mother’s favourite travelling bag. It’s so compact, isn’t it? At that stage your mother was like a
kinnaree
– the mythological creature that is half bird, half woman.

She was flying off all over the place. She went to nearly every country in Asia. I helped her buy the bag, and it really gave your mother value for money.’

Kati listened with her ears as her eyes studied the photos in the album on her lap. There was a photo of them exchanging rings, then of a ceremony in a church, Mother in a white wedding gown beside Grandpa and Grandma. Kati couldn’t imagine what Grandpa and Grandma must have thought about their only child marrying so far away from home, not to mention the fact that the girl from Ayuttaya was marrying a boy from Mandalay, cities which in the past had feuded for centuries.

‘Sometimes destiny plays such strange tricks on us humans, little Ti.’

Kati lifted her head from the album.

‘It was in this very bag that your Mother carried with her all that she possessed on the day she decided to return to Thailand. Oh…all, that is, apart from you, the baby she was carrying in her womb.’