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One day, the most senior maid announced, “Mrs. Tay thinks you’re ready. Pack your belongings—we’re sending you to the Youngs.” It was only then that Ah Ling realized that her time at the Tay household had been a training ground, and she had passed some sort of unspecified test. Ah Lan, the junior maid who had been there ten years, said to her, “You are very lucky. You were born with a pretty face, and you’ve proven yourself good at polishing silver. So you get to work at the big house now. But don’t let your head get too big over this!”

Ah Ling had no idea what she meant—she couldn’t imagine a bigger mansion than the one she was already in. She soon found herself in the passenger seat of the Austin-Healey, with Mr. Tay at the wheel and Mrs. Tay in the backseat, and she would never forget that drive. They had entered what seemed like a jungle road, and at a clearing they pulled up to a grand wrought-iron gate painted light gray. She thought she was dreaming, to suddenly come upon this strange ornate gate in the middle of nowhere.

A fierce-looking Indian jaga*1 wearing a crisp olive uniform and a bright yellow turban emerged from the sentry house and scrutinized them closely through the car window before ceremoniously waving them through the gates. Then they drove up a long winding gravel lane that had been cut through the thick trees, giving way to an avenue lined with majestic palm trees, until suddenly the most magnificent building she had ever seen came into sight. “What is this place?” she had asked, suddenly becoming afraid.

“This is Tyersall Park, the home of Sir James Young. You will be working here from now on,” Mrs. Tay informed her.

“Is he the governor of Singapore?” Ah Ling asked in awe. She never knew a house could be this immense…it was like one of the grand old buildings on the Shanghai waterfront she had once seen on a postcard.

“No, but the Youngs are far more important than the governor.”

“What does Mister…Sir James do?”

“He’s a doctor.”

“I never knew doctors could be so rich.”

“He is a wealthy man, but this house actually belongs to his wife, Su Yi.”

“A lady owns this house?” Ah Ling had never heard of such a thing.

“Yes, she grew up here. It was her grandfather’s house.”

“He was my grandfather too.” Mr. Tay turned to Ah Ling with a smile.

“This is your grandfather’s house? Why are you not living here, then?” Ah Ling asked, puzzled.

“Aiyah, stop asking so many questions!” Mrs. Tay scolded. “You will learn more about the family in due course—I’m sure the other servants will fill you in on all the gossip very fast. You will quickly see that it is Su Yi who rules over everything. Just work very hard and be sure that you never do anything to upset her and you’ll do fine.”

Ah Ling had done more than fine. Over the next sixty-three years, she rose from being one of twelve junior maids to become one of the Young family’s most trusted nannies—having helped raise Su Yi’s youngest children, Victoria and Alix, and then in the next generation, Nick. Now she was the head housekeeper, overseeing a staff that at its peak reached fifty-eight but for the past decade had remained at thirty-two. Today, as she sat in her quarters drinking tea and eating a few Jacob’s Cream Crackers smeared with peanut butter and Wilkin & Sons red currant jam—one of the strange Western habits she had picked up from Philip Young—a round, smiling face suddenly appeared at her window.

“Ah Tock! My God, I was just sitting here thinking of your grandmother, and suddenly you appear!” Ah Ling gasped.

“Ling Jeh, didn’t you know I had no choice but to come this afternoon? Her Imperial Highness summoned me,” Ah Tock reminded her in Cantonese.

“I had forgotten. My head is jumbled with a million things today.”

“I can only imagine! Hey, I hate to make your life more difficult, but do you mind?” Ah Tock held up a Metro shopping bag full of clothing. “These are Mama’s dresses—”

“Of course, of course,” Ah Ling said, taking the bag. Ah Tock was a cousin of the Youngs through Su Yi’s side,*2 and Ah Ling had known his mother, Bernice Tay, since she was a girl—she was the daughter of the couple who first took Ah Ling in “for training” when she arrived in Singapore. Bernice regularly smuggled some of her finer clothes to be cleaned at Tyersall Park, knowing there was a full team of launderers that washed every piece by hand, air dried them in the sun, and ironed them with lavender-scented water. There wasn’t a finer laundering service on the entire island.

“Mama wanted me to show you this sam fu…the fastening hook came off.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll have it sewn back for her. I know this vintage sam fu—Su Yi gave it to her years ago.”

Out of another bag, Ah Tock produced a bottle of Chinese rum. “Here, from Mama.”

“Hiyah, tell your mother she shouldn’t have bothered! I still haven’t finished the bottle she gave me a year ago. When do I have time to enjoy this?”

“If I had to run this place like you do, I’d be drinking every night!” Ah Tock said with a chuckle.

“Should we go up now?” Ah Ling gestured, getting out of her chair.

“Sure. How is Her Imperial Highness today?”

“Irritable, as always.”

“Hopefully I can help fix that,” Ah Tock replied cheerily. Ah Tock was a frequent presence at Tyersall Park, not because he was a be


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