Chapter 3; the girl named Cary.

After that nightmare, I decided that the best option was to not face my dad at all. I will never forgive him for what he did, and I never stopped blaming him for being so weak upon the demise of mother. The love and hate clawed wildly at my heart which was almost too much for me to bear. Yet deep down, I knew his broken heart has never healed from that destructive blow of her departure. So the only practical thing was to move out of the house, away from the sick reminisce of that incident, his presence, and in case, it happened again.

I confided in Louis the day after it happened, and his gaping reaction only fueled my sense of humiliation. But i appreciated the comfort he provided, although he too, was unsure of how to make me feel better; simply because, there wasn't anything that could have been done to rectify the situation. He supported my idea of moving out, and through his connections, managed to hook me up with a china student who was enrolled into one of the private schools. Her rich father rented the entire house for her, but being as business-orientated as they are, she was keen to rent out the spare rooms to fund her extravagant shopping behind daddy's back.

There were meager belongings to pack. I dusted the photograph propped on my desk, kissing it before placing it carefully on top of all my clothes. Dad was not home. He has been drinking more than ever since that incident. I think he couldn't forgive himself either. I stood by the doorway with Louis extending his hand to help with my luggage. Nostalgia washed over me as my gaze floated around the house, taking in everything. The familiar scent, memories of mother and random childhood scenes.

"I cannot forgive you for what you have allowed to happen. Mother's departure cut to the bone, not only for you, but for me as well. I want you to remember that. But I did not allow myself to wallow in pity, not because I don't love her, not because I don't miss her, but because, I will carry on her love for what she left behind. The house, our memories, myself and you.

Mother will be so heartbroken if she sees what a wreck you are now. And now, I am going to leave you just as she did. I hope this serves as a wake-up call for you. It seem that I have lost all my respect for you as a father, and what's left now is just the bond that we have forged that cannot be broken. I am setting out to change my life, but for whatever good that may come, please don't think you or the incident played a part. Because you didn't. I did. I am the only reason for the dreams that I will be pursuing. 

Good bye, thank you for the care that you have given over the years. Please don't waste all your CPF money at one go. This cheque that I am giving is not much, but it is all that I am willing to give you at the moment. And it's only on mother's account.

Take care, dad. 
Love, V."

The letter was written on pretty paper that was part of my huge letter-pad collection. Wendy and I were crazy about letter exchange, and not once, did we ever think email was as sentimental as the crisp smell of the paper against the sharp tones of ink. I had it folded into a matching envelop, sealed with my personalized stamp, a cheque of 2,000 enclosed with it. I placed it on the coffeetable, together with the untouched 50$ note and the Charles and Keith.

I would be crazy to take those tainted things. Slipping into my flats, I turned away and never once, looked back.


...

Louis drove in silence, but I could hear his thoughts, screaming with concern. His Suzuki Swift rambled on, vibrating as he blasted the air conditioning. The sound of the engine covered the awkward atmosphere. Then suddenly, I decided to break the ice.

"I am okay, Louis. Thanks for being here for me." I reached out for his portly thigh which was tucked neatly into his denim washed skinny jeans and gave a reassuring pat. He turned and flashed a bright smile, happy to know the awkwardness has been warded off.

"Well Violette, I think you will like Cary very much. She's not very good with English. If you two hit it off well, I'm pretty sure she'll teach you a few tricks." Louis spoke excitedly, one hand off the wheel, tapping on his phone with another. A few tricks? I wondered what Louis meant.

His Swift made a sharp left turn down an unfamiliar street. I had no idea where I was. I have stayed in Jurong my entire life, and being the loner and workaholic that I was, I hardly went anywhere. The nearby MRT station was the only indicator that I was somewhere in Queenstown.

"Cary's only mode of transport is via taxis, thus she didn't mind how inconvenient the flat was. For you my dear, it can only mean affordable rent!" Louis stuck his pudgy thumb up, his left hand leaving the wheel, flashing a huge smile. I knew he was trying to lighten things up and deep down, I felt much better knowing despite my life spiraling down, I didn't have to face everything alone. I laughed in response, peering curiously out of the window, a small spark of excitement wavering in my heart.

I have never stayed away from my family, despite how empty my house was most of the time. And right now, I am actually happy to be independent.

As we approached a simple whitewashed door, it was pulled open even before Louis could reach the doorbell adorned with a cute sticker of a rabbit. Standing at the doorway, was Cary. Her aura was so beguiling and seductive that I felt Louis and I inhaling and holding our breath simultaneously, as though wanting to take in the sight in front of us, not willing to ruin anything.

Cary was petite, her height of 1.55 made me feel like an overgrown, large and burly troll. Before I could take a closer look, she spoke. "Hello! You must be Violette." Cary broke our enraptured gaze with a gentle smile, moving backwards to let us into the house.

Her delicate voice was perfectly matched by her buttermilk skin-tone and slender waist. Her tiny feet were covered by a pair of fluffy bunny slippers. She had bewitching eyes that contradicted her innocuous smile, those like that of a leopard, large, enchanting and slightly slanted. Her tiny frame seemed to be collapsing under the two abundant globes on her chest, made extra conspicuous by her pink t-shirt with a low V neck, portraying a well balanced unification of the devil and an angel.

I struggled to snap out of my gaze as Louis stepped forward to shake her hand, my luggage in his hand. "Come, I will show you your bedroom, Violette." Cary signaled to the right with a flick of her tiny wrist.

The house was well-lit and beautifully furnished. The wall of the living room was painted a gentle topaz. A sleek Samsung plasma was mounted right in the middle, its glossy black made a stark contrast against the yellow. A huge rug conquered most of the living space,  its weaves of beige and cream colored threads woven into a mosaic. The ivory white coffee-table was not elaborated, but artistically stylish. A single stalk of  red artificial tulip leaned gracefully against a triangular glass vase. The day couch was inviting and plush in its delicious off-white leather.

The hallway was spacious and airy, its walls resided by vintage photographs of various flowers; roses, forget-me-not, sunflowers, daisies and periwinkle. Three bedrooms loomed ahead, the doors painted whitewash as well. I had definitely not expected a HDB flat to be so tastefully decorated. Cary proceeded to the last door on the right and handed me a set of keys.

Louis handed my luggage over with an encouraging smile as Cary leaned against the wall to let me enter the room. "We will be outside. Take your time to unpack." Cary spoke in her fluent Mandarin, which surprisingly, was not strongly accented.

Subtle powder blue walls greeted me with poise, their elegance emphasized by a white trousseau in hand-painted oak and traditional copper handles. A super single bed was placed at the far end of the room with its wheat colored sheets looking comfy and alluring. A full-length mirror was drilled onto the wall, right next to a charming working desk. My index finger ran over the smooth craftsmanship of its surface, and judging from the fine layer of dust, the room has been vacant for quite a while.

The owner's love for floral paintings extended to my room as portraits of different sizes spruced up the otherwise plain looking interior. I stood quietly in the middle, and took a deep breath. It felt nice to be in the room. It was pleasant and welcoming, alot like how home should be. I opened my luggage on the parquet floor, not wanting to dirty the clean bedsheets. Laughter could be heard from the living room, mostly Louis' contagious cackles coupled by a few lady-like peals of giggles from Cary.

I wiped the desk with tissue and placed the photograph at the corner, tilted towards the right so that the light streaming in will reflect gently on it with a soft glow. The next few minutes were spent effortlessly as I unpacked my paltry number of clothes into trousseau, which had ample space left. I smiled to myself, a quick thought of Cary shopping with me for clothes having darted across my mind.

"Violette, I am sure we will be good friends. I would love to learn how to speak better English from you. Please do not hesitate to ask me any questions. My school term is not starting until next month, so we have plenty of time together, if you do not mind showing me around Singapore." Cary was courteous, her smile so captivating it was impossible to say no.

The rest of the day was spent with Louis preparing steamboat for us in the also lavishly decorated kitchen. Cary spoke about her life over the fine spread and a couple of beers whilst Louis brought in the humor factor with his endless supply of jokes and tease. My face was heating up from both the steam and the alcohol in my blood. Although my fingers were cold from clutching the ice-cold beer, I felt infinite warmth in my belly, and in my heart. It felt real nice.

It was 1 in the night when we finally got into our beds. I stared up at the ceiling, feeling toasty under the soft duvet. Moonlight formed an incandescent pool, twisting into an elongated shadow of the windows. Many thoughts were swimming in my head. Everything happened so fast. I am not a fan of change, but I don't shun it as much as I don't embrace it with open arms. Yet, I know I had to be strong and to always remember what mother told me, that everything happens for a reason, it's just dependent on whether or not you choose to believe that the reason is a good one.

As I listen to sounds of the few solitary cars passing by on the empty roads downstairs, I tried to comprehend the perplexity of everything that has happened... My oppressive secondary school life, Wendy, Darren, Mother's death and... the rape. I whispered "I will be strong, mother." before drifting into sleep, my head cluttered with the obscure thoughts left unanswered.

Lesson 3: A fresh start is only new when everything old is not forgotten, but accepted with grace and magnanimity.