We were not too sure how rich were these mean stingy bastards. Rina was mangling the brand and type of car. Difficult to get it properly.
Rina knew the vehicle well, but nama, nama?
The gal was producing some big numbers: 421 or 480 something. Thousands she meant. Not Indonesian rupiah either; Sing dollar. Juicy.
— Ya. Adamant about it.
Well, proper investigation was called for. Were these fuckers loaded as all that? Really?
A couple of years ago there had been mention of a Honda. Middle and lower middle order therefore, for all the prestigiousness of address. Or perhaps these people were of the house rich/car poor cohort.
Then today a Lexus and "Vovo" were somehow added to the mix.
Over the years Rina had washed them all, often daily, and Sundays thoroughly inside & out.
Never a complaint with Rina's work, whether indoors or out. Ma'am occasionally half-heartedly nagged about something inconsequential.
A free-standing three storey bungalow in Bukit Timah was worth plenty of course. Easily $5-10m., if not double. Sing real estate was right up there.
Inherited? Not too many of the Tin Hill (Bukit Timah) crowd would park a Honda in the garage.
— Prusher... Pluckash…tumbling from Rina.
Sir's invoice had been sighted. Simple curiosity had made Rina look. Either $420k or $480.
– Yes. And Yes again affirmative.
Alright already. Let’s see now… We needed to get to the bottom of this story.
The first picture on the screen Rina quickly claimed.
— Ya. That was it... But Sir's had two somethings for the wind on the back. And bigger than the picture.
The new, second maid had been warned never to touch the motor. For her it was outta bounds. Having long proved herself, Rina was trusted. Sir had cautioned her to take special care.
Carefully. Carefully. Rina was always worried about scratching.
First ID needed confirmation. If that was indeed the German make—Rina had harped on German—then the model was different.
It was the crest, the leaping stallion further down the page that Rina immediately seized upon.
— Ya. That one.
Clearly now. The very same. How many times had Rina polished those contours. The hooves, that mane and tail of flame!
No exaggeration then: near half mil. Only Lamborghinis were priceier. Never mind Rollers and Bentleys.
Still it surprised. In all Rina's references Sir seemed just the usual dweeb schmuck. Nothing flashy about him. There was an office in Orchard; tall piles of cash in the safe spied.
What the line was of course Rina had not the faintest. Maybe shipping; maybe oil.
Sir's mum lived with a sister in Australie. It was Ma’am’s mother in the house; the Popo who was Rina's particular charge. Rina accompanied Popo to Hong Kong, to the casino at Genting, Cameron Highlands. At the moment the family was holidaying in the Philippines, leaving the two maids to relax at home. The two kids were back from boarding school in London. (There were long lists of chores left behind for the maids.)
Porsche.
Admittedly the pronunciation was tricky.
Rina had been late arriving. Washing had needed to be put on, cleaning. The dog needed washing and feeding; the fish. The neighbor's overhanging tree needed to be pruned.
Ma'am was always cheesed off by an unkempt garden and drive. No sooner had Rina raked and swept than the wind brought down more leaves again and Ma’am got unhappy.
They were due back in the evening. Ma’am had called in advance with the supper details. Earlier Rina had needed to go over to the market for the vegetables and swing back home quickly in order to get it all done on time. We had maybe an hour and half.
An escape route had now been hatched. The work had become too much for Rina. After seventeen years, following her upcoming holiday back home, Rina would not be returning.
A friend of Ma’am’s had secretly poached Rina, tempting her with a position in a small bungalow a couple of streets away. Three in the house on a small plot and no vegetable garden. (Ma’am prided herself on Rina’s garden.)
Rina would take care with outings; avoid local shops. With luck they could get away with it without ruining a friendship.
The pay was an extra hundred and each Sunday and public holiday free. (Illegal fortnightly free days presently.) Wages would be given monthly too.
For some reason the Porsche Ma'am kept back the earnings until Rina returned each year or two back home. It was a saving mechanism, Ma’am had explained in the early days.
Money in these girls' hands was liable to be spent on all manner of nonsense; and then what did they have to show for their labors.
Rina never questioned Ma’am’s wage envelopes.
Ma'am was a Christian. Various inspirational verses of the bible were stored on her phone. Church attendance had always been sporadic, what with all Ma’am’s clubs, her travel and attendance on the kids.
Rina's daily items were provided by Ma'am, phone included. There was some kind of gold jewellery too. Phone credit was the grievance; apart from the scale of the work and its relentlessness morning to night.
Rina had been helped with a draft mail to Popo, the Grandma.
Sorry Popo, cannot back Singapore. My children and grandchildren need me; &etc. Thank you so much &etc.
Some years ago Popo had grown nervous about Rina’s return back home. Something Rina had said and Poposensed. An appeal had been made to see the job through; to care for Popo until the end. Popo was eighty-three; fit and healthy; still driving. (The Honda runabout it turned out.)
Ten dollars annually for hangbao from Popo. Once when noise had been made about a bequest in a will a hundred thousand dollars was suggested, coming Rina’s way. Rina had treated it as a joke and didn’t ask anything further. Ten dollar hangbao for CNY. But, hang in Rina; a mountain of dollars later…
Yeah, right.
Rina had no credit on her phone the last few days and could not respond to texts. Luckily Whatsapp did it for back home. (For friends here who didn’t have a smartphone, nada.)
It was only a year ago the Whatsapp had been installed for Rina by one of the kids. Rina had left her phone on the table and the boy took a look.
— Auntie, I download Whatsapp you call family Indonesia. No money; no money. (Rina had heard from friends about Whatsapp.)
It worked. But that was using Sir and Ma’am’s wifi. When Ma’am accidentally made the discovery Starhub were called for change of password.
Luckily the allies in the house came to the rescue again.
— Don’t tell Mummy auntie.
Rina had had enough already. She was outta there soon as the contract ended.
Filthy stingy bastards
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