Planted

Chapter 8 In the dead of the night

"Whew! All done." I sighed with relief as I surveyed the neatly organised files, arranged in alphabetical order and colour-coded. Convinced that I was as ready for the court case as I could ever be, I allowed myself to take a breather.

If only I could find a piece of evidence that proved conclusively we were intentionally kept in the dark about the dumping or that some other company was poisoning the river. Indubitably, I felt sorry for the villagers who had to live with the consequences of being disenfranchised and powerless. No one really cared about their needs, all most companies wanted was to maximise our profit margins and increase market share.

At three in the morning, I gazed out the window at the city lights in the middle of the main shopping street Orchard Road, similar to London's Oxford Street or Hong Kong's Tshimshatsui.

Briefly, I allowed myself to entertain the nagging doubt growing at the back of my mind. Would mum have been ruthless and short sighted enough to cut cost at the risk of environmental pollution? Was she being blackmailed by whoever took those branded items? Oh mum, why was she such a complex person? If TUF was really guilty, we should take responsibility and take G and G terms quietly without creating a media scandal. But how could we afford to the settlement cost?

For the past few days, I had been filing on the floor of my office. The office situation was ridiculous. Feeling stiff, I stood up, stretched and my eyes scanned the silent room. The few scattered labelled boxes showed that TUF had almost completely relocated.

Rental prices had been killing us for awhile but mum wanted us in ION Orchard to appear upmarket and successful. My brain told me it was financially wise to leave this place and work from a home office for awhile. My heart felt sorry for downsizing mum's dreams.

On the noticeboard was a map with multi-coloured pins marking the places I was scheduled to visit, before I put all travel on hold in order to learn driving. Also, cutting our travel expenses for the year meant more savings. Every available desk space was filled with baskets of flowers, roses, lilies and daisies. The flowers made the almost completely vacated office space look festive, or maybe a better word was "somber" and filled with wreaths.

Obviously, See Yew knew only one method of apologizing--flowers. Each gift tag had a G n G logo on it. He had charged it all to his expense account.

My eyes rested on my desk which had already been sold for a good price and was awaiting collection. Then, glancing quickly at my speakerphone, that I had taken off the hook, I sighed.

Tommy had left me text messages, voice mail and messages with my PA. I avoided them all. His family was harder to shun. They just assumed I visited while they were at work. Updates on his medical progress kept appearing on our Whatsapp group and when he was discharged, each sister called to thank me personally and rejoice. My emotions were caught up all their joyous exuberance. Then a week ago, when he went back to work, each sister called in a new frenzy of jubilation. Jan, sweet, lovable Jan, would call to entertain me with stories of his childhood, inspiring, cute stories that would play on my mind all day. No one should be rude to Jan, but when she's on a roll, I could not get a word in edgewise. She had a relentlessness about her so that when she could not get me on mobile, she would call my home and talk to dad or Logan. Bombarded by Tommy news, it was only natural that he was in my thoughts whenever I was not focused on work. That's what I'm telling myself anyway. To force myself to focus better, for the past week I turned off my phone and managed to sell most of mum's assets and marginally prevented TUF from going into receivership.

"Right back to work," I rebuked roving thoughts. My voice echoed unnaturally off the blank walls. Determined, I pulled myself together and turned to my computer screen. The lift dinged loudly as it stopped on my floor. I looked up puzzled and quickly turned on my phone. It pinged non-stop as updates and notifications came through against the background sound of strange footsteps getting closer and then a gentle knocking at the door. I speed dialled Logan.

"There's someone at the office door; it's freaking me out. Come quick," I whispered and hung up before he could answer.

"Sandy, Sandy are you there?" asked a familiar voice.

I gasped and flung opened the door. "Christopher! What in the world are you doing here?"

"Sandy, I missed you so much. I'm on route to visit my parents who have a diplomatic posting in Tokyo and I have three days in Singapore," Christopher said in his sexy baritone. His tousled wavy hair was a mess, and his clothes unusually rumpled. Even in this state, my breath caught at the sight of him.

"Did you come from the airport, Chris? How did you know I was here? Did you get your doctorate?" I asked bewildered. Christopher was predictable; this was very unlike him.

"Yes, you can call me professor from now on. You've played a huge part in helping me through my thesis, and I took you for granted. I have so much to tell you and ask you; I couldn't wait till daylight. I called your home and your dad said that you've been in a self-imposed isolation here. Please spend the next three days with me, Sandy. I'm at The Fullerton Hotel, we need to catch up."

Right on cue, the door flung open and Logan announced dramatically, "Over my dead body."

"You," Christopher sneered, eyes flashing. Logan always brought out the worse in him. I quickly stepped between both men and declared I was hungry. As I locked up the office, both men were arguing about where to eat and I was quickly transported back to my youth, when even in the dead of the night when most people were asleep, life was simpler then.