The Philip Jeyaretnam Collection by Philip Jeyaretnam

Author:Philip Jeyaretnam
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789814779142
Publisher: Marshall Cavendish International

Vincent threw his blanket over his head in protest as the white glare of the fluorescent tube lit up the room.

Siew Yang was wandering around the room gathering up books, files and pens and managing to drop half of them in the process.

‘Too damn much!’ Vincent yelled through the blanket. ‘Bloody basket can’t you keep quiet?’

‘Hey you woke me up last night you know, Siew Meng. I’m trying to be quiet anyway.’

Vincent turned over. A moment later it seemed his alarm clock was ringing. Vincent raised himself on his elbows and then subsided once more. The alarm clock stopped. Vincent felt his mind flip backwards into the cool calm world of sleep. Then a second alarm clock deployed by him in reserve, started ringing and Vincent forced himself awake, struggling free of the blanket and the bed.

Vincent walked through the kitchen to the bathroom. On the way he put water on to boil on the stove for coffee. He left the door open and, having taken off his singlet and shorts, turned on the tap for the shower and stood under the spray, relishing the shock of cold water.

The only good thing about waking up was that no one else would be home. Siew Yang would just be starting assembly at school. Mother and Father would have been at their stall for the last hour and half. Father made chai tow kueh and Mother helped him, chopping up ingredients, carrying plates to customers and washing up.

Vincent always felt uncomfortable when his parents were around: his mother fussing and solicitous; his father dully expectant. They were so anxious to be proud of their sons that Vincent felt suffocated.

Vincent dreaded to think about how his parents would behave at the grand dinner which Mr Lim would no doubt hold in celebration of his daughter’s marriage. Mr Lim he felt would be tolerant and polite: Mr Lim had escaped a similarly humiliating background. But Mrs Lim would be patronising, would nod smilingly at his parents, only to make them the butt of her withering scorn at her next mahjong party. His parents would be overawed and happy, would believe that thanks to their son they were genuine guests of honour. Had they no pride, Vincent thought bitterly?

Vincent had not yet introduced Connie to his parents. Connie. Shit. He had forgotten Connie’s little drama last night. Shit. Nothing for it but a hands-and-knees telephone call. Women!

They yell at you, throw you out of the house yet guess who has to apologise. Well that would change once he was married.

Vincent emerged from the bathroom, dripping water across the kitchen floor as he towelled off. The floor would dry before his mother was back, in the afternoon, in the lull between lunch and dinner, to clean and cook for her sons before returning to the stall.

The water was boiling madly on the stove and Vincent turned off the gas and made himself a large mug of instant coffee. He opened the fridge door. Bloody woman had

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