She’d nipped out of the living room and down the stairs leading to the front door before they could say anything.
“Is she always like this?” said Ket Hau.
Ket Siong suppressed the instinct to defend Renee; he knew what his brother meant. “Something’s going on.”
“Like what?” said Ket Hau. He looked up as Renee came up the stairs, and saw who was with her. The blood drained from his face.
Renee ushered the man into the living room. He was looking unnaturally tidy, in a batik shirt and long trousers. His long hair was tied up in a ponytail. In person, he was startlingly thin.
“Hey,” said Stephen. He was holding a tub of Quality Street, and he looked anxious.
Ma came in, carrying a glass dish containing her famous macaroni casserole, saw Stephen, and dropped the dish. It bounced off the side of the sofa and landed casserole-down.
“Stephen!”
“Oh shit!” said Stephen. “Sorry, auntie.” He abandoned theQuality Street and dived for the casserole, scooping it up. “It’s OK. Didn’t even spill, look. Blow off the fluff and it’ll be fine.”
“Give me that!” said Ma. She swiped the baking dish, put it on the table, and flung her arms around him, bursting into tears.
Ket Hau and Ket Siong looked at each other. The last time Ma had hugged Ket Siong was after a triumphant concert he’d done in KL, years ago, and she’d had the excuse of being under the influence of the music—Chopin always made Ma emotional. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her hug Ket Hau.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” said Stephen, his voice muffled. “Renee invited me—”
“I know it was presumptuous,” said Renee. “But he was going to spend Christmas alone in Geneva and I thought you wouldn’t mind—”
“I can go if you all want to have a family dinner by yourselves—”
“What are you talking about?” said Ma. “You flew in yesterday? How long are you in UK? Until New Year. Where are you staying? Hotel, why are you staying in hotel? Hotel is so expensive. You can stay with us, we have space in the living room.”
This was more an expression of hope than of fact—the living room could barely accommodate the five people in it—but spatial reality was not going to get in the way of a determined Ma.
“The table can go in the corner there and we can put a mattress on the floor by the sofa,” she said. “We can buy air mattress, air mattress is quite comfortable. Auntie Shirley used to have one. We can WhatsApp her and ask what brand to buy. Oh, but the shops are closed. When will they open? Tomorrow? You’re so thin now! Are you eating properly? You cannot just eat Maggi mee, I told you boys it’s not real food. Have you eaten? Come, sit down. Hau, go and get the plate for him.”
Stephen wiped his eyes and said, “Don’t worry, auntie. I can help myself. Where’s the kitchen?”
“You won’t know where everything is,” said Ket Hau. He was perched on the sofa. For a while he’d been bent over, his breathingsuspiciously uneven, but his colour was better now and he seemed more or less back to normal. He got up.
“I’ll come with you,” said Stephen.
They went out of the room together. Ma looked at the dining table, sizing up the possibilities.
“We have the macaroni and the drinks,” she said. “The turkey is out already, just needs to rest. Everything else, Hau and Stephen can take out of the oven when it’s ready. We can start eating now. Let them talk by themselves. Oh, thank you, thank you. What’s this?”
“I brought champagne,” said Renee shyly. “And zero-alcohol bubbly, in case anyone’s alcohol-free. Sorry, I should’ve put them in the fridge when I got here, but I forgot.”
“Champagne is perfect,” said Ma. “It’s still cold.” They glanced towards the kitchen.
“I’ll open it in the garden,” said Ket Siong.
Stephen and Ket Hau didn’t take that long. The bubbles were still racing in their glasses of champagne when they came back to the living room, bearing plates heaped with roast turkey, stir-fried vegetables, roast potatoes, curry simmered for many hours till its smells filled the flat, wonderfully rich and savoury and complex, and—
“Is that roti jala?” said Renee, brightening. “Did you make that, auntie? Oh, amazing. You’ve been working so hard.”
“Rendang for Christmas,” said Stephen blissfully. “When the smell of auntie’s rendang hit me, whoof! I was almost going to cry, man.”
“You must pack some and take back with you,” said Ma to Renee. “We have so much, we won’t be able to finish. But Stephen, your hotel, can you get a refund? Tonight you can stay there, then tomorrow we’ll see if the shops are open and we can get the mattress…”
“You want water?” said Renee to Stephen. She scanned thecrowded table. “I don’t think there’s a spare glass. Let me get you one.”
