Chapter 6
It’s been really hectic at work lately. My poor frail body (and soul) is just about to snap into two and get buried under the crazy amount of work load. I’ve been going to work at 7am and staying back till 9pm. That’s no way to live, I tell you. I hardly see the sun anymore, except for the rare moments when I pop out for a cup of frappucino – take away, of course.
The only way I’m surviving is by telling myself that this will not last. I’m seriously considering a change of career. I heard there’s a model search in town. Maybe they’ll discover me? Or not. Don’t think anyone notices me these days, with my hair bunched up in a tight ponytail because I have no time for any glamorous styling whatsoever, and its too dull and lifeless to have it down; I hardly have time for breakfast, so there’s no way you’ll catch me waking up at some insane hour just to put on make up; dark circles are permanently imprinted beneath my eyes, so I’ve been hiding behind my glasses. Well, guess I shouldn’t be too hopeful about becoming the next Amber Chia.
The other option would be to find a rich old man, preferably a fat and balding one, and marry him. Yeah right, Tutu, keep on dreaming, I can just see where this one is going.
.......................................................................♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
It’s Saturday afternoon, 4pm, and the sun is casting lazy shadows across the lawn. I’m putting out my second load of washing; I haven’t had the time or the energy to tackle them during the week.
Can you imagine hanging up your laundry within an English country-styled garden? I can tell you that it is immensely pleasurable. Every time I am out here, I feel so peaceful, and so away from the loud and demanding world. It’s really very amazing.
There are a couple of low trees in the garden on one side of my studio. Mr. Sachiiya told me they were lemon trees. How did he manage to grow lemons in this weather?
Mr. Sachiiya’s friendly face wrinkled with a smile when I threw him my question. “Shhh, that’s my little secret,” he said.
The trees are not bearing fruits yet, but the leaves are already giving out a sweet and tangy fresh perfume, and small buds are starting to sprout from between the greens. And right next to the trees is my laundry area. Despite the old fashion setting, Mr. Sachiiya made sure I had a proper and sturdy clothes line. And now, with my laundry flapping in the breeze among the trees within the picturesque garden (yes, there’s actually a real breeze!), this postcard image is complete! (“Wish you were here?”)
I picked up a pair of pants from the laundry pile and draped it over the line. As I bent down again, my fringe escaped from the clip which was holding them in place. With my hands busy, I blow out a breath which flutters my fringe, sending them temporarily in the air, before they settle back against my face. I probably should visit my hairdresser sometime soon, I can’t remember when my last visit was, which just goes to show how crazy and unorganized my life has been lately. Just thinking about it gets me frustrated. And the thing is I realize I am the only one who can make the changes. It won’t work just sitting around complaining about my environment.
Hm, am I starting to sound like one of Kaelyn’s horoscopes?
Just as I am putting up the last of my washing, which happens to be my new polka dot bra and panty set, I hear Mrs. Sachiiya calling for me.
“Tutu! Tutu, you have a visitor!”
I turn around to see the elderly lady coming down the garden path, and following closely behind her – Ean?! What is he doing here? Oh gosh, I am wearing my super worn out shorts the oldest t-shirt, which probably has stains all over it, and my hair is a mess, and my newly laundered bras and panties are flapping in the air – What is he doing here!?
I step forward and almost tripover my laundry basket. Klutz!
“Tutu, my dear, how are you?” Mrs. Sachiiya is forever warm and friendly. Then she noted my laundry. “Oh, you’re doing your laundry! I was telling my daughter in law about you. You work so hard, yet finds time to keep the place tidy and wash your own laundry. So disciplined. Such a good girl!”
“Erm…” What am I suppose to say to that? “Thank you, Mrs. Sachiiya. Erm… that’s too kind of you. Really, it’s nothing much, just erm, doing what I should…”
I trail off when I catch Ean’s eyes and he winks at me from behind Mrs. Sachiiya. I frown back.
“So sorry to bother you, Mrs. Sachiiya, I didn’t realize my friend was dropping by for a visit, or I would have met him at the gates.”
“Oh, not at all, my dear, not at all! In fact, your friend was just telling me how much he enjoys our garden, and even mentioned that he does a bit of gardening himself as well! That’s very rare among young people these days. My own grandson can’t tell the difference between African Lilies and Cornflowers.”
I can’t either, but I say nothing and just cock an eyebrow at Ean. Him, gardening? I can’t imagine.
“My father loves gardening,” Ean say as a way of explaining, “What I know, I learn from him.”
Mrs. Sachiiya beams at him, the approval on her face unmistakable. Then she gives my arm a pat. “Well, I’ll leave you two young people alone now.” She turns around to head back towards the main house. But after a few steps, she stop and call back to me. “Oh Tutu, I’m baking a banana cake for tea. I expect to see you in the kitchen in half an hour’s time, and make sure to bring your friend too, of course!”
“Oh Mrs. Sachiiya, that’s not necessary, he won’t be staying long –“
“Of course we’ll love to! Thank you very much for the invitation, Mrs. Sachiiya,” Ean cut me off before I could say anymore. “See you in a while!”
Satisfied, the elderly lady continue back to the house.
I stare at Ean with what could only be total astonishment plus a lot of curiosity plus some frustration. He catches my look, but only grins at me in return and says, “I drive a Ford and I have a condo in the outskirts. Am I rich enough for you?”
I look at him in absolute incomprehension. “What?”
His laughs, and I notice how the sides of his eyes crinkle when he do so. Then he tilts his head at my top, “Love your t-shirt.”
I follow his gaze and look down.
Ah. Now I see.
I’m wearing one of my crazy t-shirts, bought during the ancient ages when I thought wearing cheeky writings were cool. But I didn’t realize the message I was sending out wasn’t so appropriate for my age. I was only 15 then. And the message reads: “If you’re rich, I’m single”. In gold.
During the exchange with Mrs. Sachiiya, I have temporarily forgotten about my shabby attire! But I have to steel myself against Ean’s apparently innocent flirting. He is always doing it. I cross my arms over my chest, hiding most of the words, and look up at him.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, not sounding too friendly, but I don’t like to be taken my surprise, especially when I don’t recall giving him my new address. Not that I am not happy to see him, but that’s beside the point.
Ean shrugs very casually, in a fashion only he is able to deliver. “Just wanted to see you, Outside of the office, that is.”
I mentally draws in a breath, but outside, I appear cool.
He continues. “You know how hard we’ve been working lately, and we hardly have time to talk anymore. You remember how we used to talk, Tu?”
Yeah, but that was before I found out you have a wife, and you never even bothered to tell me!
But I didn’t say that. Instead, I imitates his casual shrug. “Yeah, well, like you said, we’ve both been caught up with work,” And then, because I just can’t resist, “Besides, I’m sure your wife is more than willing to talk to you when you gets home at the end of the day.”
“We’ve separated.”
Oh. Oh.
The only way I’m surviving is by telling myself that this will not last. I’m seriously considering a change of career. I heard there’s a model search in town. Maybe they’ll discover me? Or not. Don’t think anyone notices me these days, with my hair bunched up in a tight ponytail because I have no time for any glamorous styling whatsoever, and its too dull and lifeless to have it down; I hardly have time for breakfast, so there’s no way you’ll catch me waking up at some insane hour just to put on make up; dark circles are permanently imprinted beneath my eyes, so I’ve been hiding behind my glasses. Well, guess I shouldn’t be too hopeful about becoming the next Amber Chia.
The other option would be to find a rich old man, preferably a fat and balding one, and marry him. Yeah right, Tutu, keep on dreaming, I can just see where this one is going.
.......................................................................♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
It’s Saturday afternoon, 4pm, and the sun is casting lazy shadows across the lawn. I’m putting out my second load of washing; I haven’t had the time or the energy to tackle them during the week.
Can you imagine hanging up your laundry within an English country-styled garden? I can tell you that it is immensely pleasurable. Every time I am out here, I feel so peaceful, and so away from the loud and demanding world. It’s really very amazing.
There are a couple of low trees in the garden on one side of my studio. Mr. Sachiiya told me they were lemon trees. How did he manage to grow lemons in this weather?
Mr. Sachiiya’s friendly face wrinkled with a smile when I threw him my question. “Shhh, that’s my little secret,” he said.
The trees are not bearing fruits yet, but the leaves are already giving out a sweet and tangy fresh perfume, and small buds are starting to sprout from between the greens. And right next to the trees is my laundry area. Despite the old fashion setting, Mr. Sachiiya made sure I had a proper and sturdy clothes line. And now, with my laundry flapping in the breeze among the trees within the picturesque garden (yes, there’s actually a real breeze!), this postcard image is complete! (“Wish you were here?”)
I picked up a pair of pants from the laundry pile and draped it over the line. As I bent down again, my fringe escaped from the clip which was holding them in place. With my hands busy, I blow out a breath which flutters my fringe, sending them temporarily in the air, before they settle back against my face. I probably should visit my hairdresser sometime soon, I can’t remember when my last visit was, which just goes to show how crazy and unorganized my life has been lately. Just thinking about it gets me frustrated. And the thing is I realize I am the only one who can make the changes. It won’t work just sitting around complaining about my environment.
Hm, am I starting to sound like one of Kaelyn’s horoscopes?
Just as I am putting up the last of my washing, which happens to be my new polka dot bra and panty set, I hear Mrs. Sachiiya calling for me.
“Tutu! Tutu, you have a visitor!”
I turn around to see the elderly lady coming down the garden path, and following closely behind her – Ean?! What is he doing here? Oh gosh, I am wearing my super worn out shorts the oldest t-shirt, which probably has stains all over it, and my hair is a mess, and my newly laundered bras and panties are flapping in the air – What is he doing here!?
I step forward and almost tripover my laundry basket. Klutz!
“Tutu, my dear, how are you?” Mrs. Sachiiya is forever warm and friendly. Then she noted my laundry. “Oh, you’re doing your laundry! I was telling my daughter in law about you. You work so hard, yet finds time to keep the place tidy and wash your own laundry. So disciplined. Such a good girl!”
“Erm…” What am I suppose to say to that? “Thank you, Mrs. Sachiiya. Erm… that’s too kind of you. Really, it’s nothing much, just erm, doing what I should…”
I trail off when I catch Ean’s eyes and he winks at me from behind Mrs. Sachiiya. I frown back.
“So sorry to bother you, Mrs. Sachiiya, I didn’t realize my friend was dropping by for a visit, or I would have met him at the gates.”
“Oh, not at all, my dear, not at all! In fact, your friend was just telling me how much he enjoys our garden, and even mentioned that he does a bit of gardening himself as well! That’s very rare among young people these days. My own grandson can’t tell the difference between African Lilies and Cornflowers.”
I can’t either, but I say nothing and just cock an eyebrow at Ean. Him, gardening? I can’t imagine.
“My father loves gardening,” Ean say as a way of explaining, “What I know, I learn from him.”
Mrs. Sachiiya beams at him, the approval on her face unmistakable. Then she gives my arm a pat. “Well, I’ll leave you two young people alone now.” She turns around to head back towards the main house. But after a few steps, she stop and call back to me. “Oh Tutu, I’m baking a banana cake for tea. I expect to see you in the kitchen in half an hour’s time, and make sure to bring your friend too, of course!”
“Oh Mrs. Sachiiya, that’s not necessary, he won’t be staying long –“
“Of course we’ll love to! Thank you very much for the invitation, Mrs. Sachiiya,” Ean cut me off before I could say anymore. “See you in a while!”
Satisfied, the elderly lady continue back to the house.
I stare at Ean with what could only be total astonishment plus a lot of curiosity plus some frustration. He catches my look, but only grins at me in return and says, “I drive a Ford and I have a condo in the outskirts. Am I rich enough for you?”
I look at him in absolute incomprehension. “What?”
His laughs, and I notice how the sides of his eyes crinkle when he do so. Then he tilts his head at my top, “Love your t-shirt.”
I follow his gaze and look down.
Ah. Now I see.
I’m wearing one of my crazy t-shirts, bought during the ancient ages when I thought wearing cheeky writings were cool. But I didn’t realize the message I was sending out wasn’t so appropriate for my age. I was only 15 then. And the message reads: “If you’re rich, I’m single”. In gold.
During the exchange with Mrs. Sachiiya, I have temporarily forgotten about my shabby attire! But I have to steel myself against Ean’s apparently innocent flirting. He is always doing it. I cross my arms over my chest, hiding most of the words, and look up at him.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, not sounding too friendly, but I don’t like to be taken my surprise, especially when I don’t recall giving him my new address. Not that I am not happy to see him, but that’s beside the point.
Ean shrugs very casually, in a fashion only he is able to deliver. “Just wanted to see you, Outside of the office, that is.”
I mentally draws in a breath, but outside, I appear cool.
He continues. “You know how hard we’ve been working lately, and we hardly have time to talk anymore. You remember how we used to talk, Tu?”
Yeah, but that was before I found out you have a wife, and you never even bothered to tell me!
But I didn’t say that. Instead, I imitates his casual shrug. “Yeah, well, like you said, we’ve both been caught up with work,” And then, because I just can’t resist, “Besides, I’m sure your wife is more than willing to talk to you when you gets home at the end of the day.”
“We’ve separated.”
Oh. Oh.
