“Looks like a combination of both,” Rachel remarked.
“Now what do you suppose they’re going to do with all these flowers once the reception ends?” Oliver wondered.
Cassandra stared up at the towering cascade of roses. “In this heat, they will all be rotten within three hours! I’m told the price of roses spiked to an all-time high this week at the Aalsmeer Flower Auction. Annabel bought up all the roses on the world market and had them flown in from Holland on a 747 freighter.”
Rachel looked around at the guests parading the floral wonderland in their festive hats, their jewels glinting in the afternoon sun, and shook her head in disbelief.
“Ollie, how much did you say these Mainlanders spent?” Cassandra asked.
“Forty million, and for heaven’s sake, Cassandra, the Lees have lived in Singapore for decades now. You need to stop calling them Mainlanders.”
“Well, they still behave like Mainlanders, as this ridiculous reception proves. Forty million—I just don’t see where all the money went.”
“Well I’ve been keeping a tally, and I’m only up to five or six million so far. God help us, I think the motherlode is being spent on tonight’s ball,” Oliver surmised.
“I can’t imagine how they’re going to top this,” Rachel said.
“Refreshments, anyone?” a voice behind her said. Rachel turned around to see Nick holding two glasses of champagne.
“Nick!” she cried excitedly.
“What did you all think of the wedding ceremony?” Nick asked, gallantly handing drinks to the ladies.
“Wedding? I could have sworn it was a coronation,” Oliver retorted. “Anyway, who cares about the ceremony? The important question is: What did everyone think of Araminta’s dress?”
“It was lovely. It looked deceptively simple, but the longer you stared at it, the more you noticed the details,” Rachel offered.
“Ugh. It was awful. She looked like some kind of medieval bride,” Cassandra sniggered.
“That was the point, Cassandra. I thought the dress was a triumph. Valentino at his best, channeling Botticelli’s Primavera and Marie de’ Medici’s arrival in Marseilles.”
“I have no idea what you just said, Ollie, but I agree.” Nick laughed.
“You looked so serious up there at the altar,” Rachel remarked.
“It was very serious business! Speaking of which, I’m going to steal Rachel away for a moment,” Nick said to his cousins, grasping Rachel’s hand.
“Hey—there are children around. No hanky-panky in the bushes!” Oliver warned.
“Alamak, Ollie, with Kitty Pong here, I don’t think Nicky’s the one we need to worry about,” Cassandra said drily.
Kitty stood in the middle of the great lawn, staring in wonder at everything around her. Here at last was something worth getting excited about! Her trip to Singapore so far had been nothing but a series of disappointments. First of all, they were staying at that cool new hotel with the huge park on the roof, but all the suites were booked up and they were stuck in a lousy regular room. And then there was Alistair’s family, who clearly weren’t as rich as she had been led to believe. Alistair’s auntie Felicity lived in an old wooden house with old Chinese furniture that wasn’t even polished properly. They were nothing compared to the rich families she knew in China, who lived in huge newly built mansions decorated by the top designers from Paris France. Then there was Alistair’s mother, who looked like one of those dowdy Family Planning Commission workers who used to come to her village in Qinghai to give advice about birth control. At last they were finally at this fairy-tale wedding reception, where she could be surrounded by the crème de la crème of society.
“Isn’t that fellow in the bow tie the chief executive of Hong Kong?” Kitty whispered loudly to Alistair.
“Yes, I believe it is,” Alistair answered.
“Do you know him?”
“I’ve met him once or twice—my parents know him.”
“Really? Where are your parents, by the way? They disappeared so quickly after the wedding, I didn’t even get a chance to say hi,” Kitty said with a little pout.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. My dad’s right there piling his plate with langoustines, and my mum is over in that purple-striped gazebo with my grandmother.”
“Oh, your Ah Ma is here?” Kitty said, peering at the gazebo. “There are so many old ladies in there—which one is she?”
Alistair pointed her out.