Page 18 of Companion Required

“Jeff it is. So, Jeff, is the weather always this hot in Singapore? Or do you have distinct seasons?”

“Well, we’re almost right on the equator, so it’s pretty hot all the year round. Ask most Singaporeans and they’ll tell you we only have two seasons—hot and wet. Come Christmas, there’s not a snowflake in sight, except polystyrene ones in the shopping malls. Follow me now. I’ve parked up in the short stay. How was the flight?”

Kieran nodded to Kennedy then, allowed him to take over the small talk. As they passed through the automatic doors of the air-conditioned arrivals hall out into the day, the humidity hit him like stepping into a steam room. Kieran had experienced nothing like the wall of damp heat that enveloped him. Together, they trailed their luggage into the nondescript inside of the car park until Jeff reached a white Toyota Camry.

Comfortable again in the air-conditioned car, Kieran relaxed on the back seat behind Kennedy, peering out of the window to a sun-bleached afternoon. Singapore appeared more like home than anywhere he had seen in Europe. Clear road signage in English, vehicles driving on the left side of well-maintained roads or three-lane expressways, all bordered by lush green vegetation, exotic-looking but equally well maintained. Before long, simple high-rise apartment blocks appeared on their right, Jeff explaining that on their left they were tracing the coastline. Fifteen minutes later they crested a hill, with Jeff pointing out a handful of the landmarks—Marina Bay Sands hotel resort and casino with what looked like a barge balanced on top of three giant blocks, the futuristic Gardens by the Bay with Martian-like tree structures, the Singapore Flyer, similar to, but bigger than, the London Eye. Kennedy’s father appeared to enjoy being the tour guide, and probably did so only for Kieran’s benefit, because Kennedy must have seen the sights before.

Eventually, they turned into a more residential neighbourhood—exclusive, by the number of landed houses—until they came to a black iron gate. Jeff picked up and pressed a small device on the dashboard, causing the large gateway to swing inwards, allowing them to drive up a short lane. Before them, the two-story house lay in its own grounds, surrounded on all sides by metal fences and tall trees.

“In Singapore, we call these kind of houses ‘black-and-whites’ because of their distinctive Tudor style. My father bought this one back in the sixties and we’ve had her updated a lot since them. Kennedy, you have your old bedroom and I’ve put Kieran in the room at the back, above the pool.”

Impressive did not even begin to describe the house. Set amid perfectly trimmed lawns, the front of the house jutted out on columns so that the open space below fell in shade. At one time, this must have been where vehicles drove up to the house. Now the space beneath had been fitted with striped blinds which lent themselves perfectly to the colonial feel of the structure.

“You have your own swimming pool?”

“We do. A fifty-foot lap pool. A blessing if, like me, you favour an early morning swim.”

Kieran leant forward and spoke into the back of Kennedy’s head.

“Kennedy, you never told me you were descended from royalty.”

Although Kennedy didn’t say a thing, next to him, Jeff chuckled.

“Hardly royalty, son. But I have mixed with some famous people over the years. Come along, let’s park up, get you settled, showered and changed. Then you can come and meet the rest of the family.”

They parked around the back of the house under a long canopy next to a large black four-wheel drive. An older man and a young boy—Indonesian perhaps, and maybe household staff—came out of a two-story building at one side of the grounds and headed towards their car.

“Reagan’s here?” asked Kennedy.

“It’s the only time she had free. As you’ve only deigned to stay for three nights.”

“We’re on a tight schedule—”

“Which is clearly more important than family.”

Kennedy didn’t reply, but sat stiffly in his seat. And right there, Kieran sampled the initial signs of familial frostiness.

Shit, he thought to himself,if they were going to survive the next few days intact, the time had come to ramp up the old West family charm.

Let the show begin.

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