Rich People Problems-Kwan 2017 (WWT)

“Who are they? Who gave you the orders? Su Yi is a living vegetable right now—she
couldn’t have said a thing to you!”
“Beg your pardon, Mrs. Young, but Mrs. Young is not a living vegetable!” Vikram
sputtered.
Nick rolled down the window. “Mum, Dad, why don’t you both just go in and I’ll—”
“Shut up, lah!” Eleanor waved her hand in front of Nick’s face dismissively. “Vikram,
how much money have you made on my stock tips over the years? Sino Land, Keppel
Corp, Silverlake Axis. Hnh! I swear to God I am never going to give you a single tip again.
I made you a rich man, and this is how you repay us? Mangkali kow sai!” *1
Vikram sighed, as he tried to find a way out of this quagmire. “Why don’t I call up to the
house again, and perhaps you can speak to Miss Victoria directly?”
Philip had reached the end of his patience. “No, Vikram, I’ve had enough of this. This is
my house too, and I will not take orders from my little sister! If my mother does not want
to see Nicky, she can tell me herself. He won’t go into her room unless he’s asked for. But
I will not have my son waiting by the gates like some sort of beggar. Call up to the house
if you want to, but we are all going in.”
Philip returned to the driver’s seat and revved the engine. Vikram stood in front of the
gray wrought-iron gates with his arms crossed, as Philip inched the sedan slowly toward
the gates until the front bumper was almost touching the imposing guard’s knees. The
other guards stood by, not sure what to do.
Five, four, three, two, one. Vikram counted in his head. Have I let this go on long
enough? Philip was a decent fellow, and he knew he wouldn’t get in trouble with him. As
far as he was concerned, there was no real security risk to letting the three of them in. It
was just a family quarrel, and now that he had done his duty and put on a good show, he
was going to get out of the way. He sidestepped the car in one easy stride and ordered his
men, “Open the gates!”
Philip jammed his foot on the pedal angrily and zoomed up the gravel driveway at top
speed. As the road curved toward the main approach to the house, the most curious sight
unfolded before them. Assembled on the front lawn were several rows of wrought-iron
chairs shaded by colorful silk parasols. Most of the family members staying at Tyersall
Park—Victoria Young, the Aakaras, and the Chengs—were seated watching a doubles
badminton match along with a few invited guests like Bishop See Bei Sien, Rosemary
T’sien, and the Thai ambassador. Behind the seats, an elaborate ice-cream bar had been
set up alongside a table dominated by an immense crystal punch bowl brimming with icy
fruit punch.
Eleanor shook her head disparagingly. “So shameful! Your mother lies on her deathbed
while everyone is outside having a garden party!”
“What are they supposed to do? Kneel all day by her bedside and chant prayers?” Philip
asked.
“Well, the bishop is here! At the very least he should be inside praying for her instead
of eating an ice-cream sundae.”