“Oh, it’s much rarer than a Black and White house,” Carmen said. “This is one of the few houses built by Frank Brewer, one of Singapore’s most prominent early architects. He designed the Cathay Building. Come, let’s take a walk around the outside first.”

As they circled the house, Astrid began pointing out the distinctive half-timbered gables that gave the house its stately, Tudor-esque feel, the elegant exposed-brick arches in the porte cochere, and other ingenious details like the Mackintosh-inspired ventilation grilles that kept the rooms feeling cool even in the sweltering tropical heat. “See how it combines the Arts and Crafts esthetic with Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Spanish Mission style? You’re not going to find such a fusion of architectural styles in one house anywhere else on the planet.”

“It’s nice, hon, but you’re probably the only person in Singapore who would even care about those details! Who lived here before your relatives?” he asked Carmen.

“It was built originally in 1922 for the chairman of Fraser and Neave, and later it became the Belgian ambassador’s residence,” Carmen replied, adding rather unnecessarily: “This is a rare chance to own one of Singapore’s truly historic gems.”

The three of them entered the house, and as they wandered through the elegantly proportioned rooms, Michael began to appreciate the place more and more. “I like how high the ceilings are on the ground floor.”

“It’s a bit creaky in places, but I know just the architect to help give this place a gentle restoration—he worked on my uncle Alfred’s place in Surrey and just redid Dumfries House in Scotland for the Prince of Wales,” Astrid said.

Standing in the living room, with sunlight flooding through the oriole windows and casting origami shadows onto the parquet wood floors, Michael was suddenly reminded of the drawing room at Tyersall Park and the feeling of unutterable awe that came over him the first time he entered that room to meet Astrid’s grandmother. He had originally envisioned his new house as something resembling the contemporary wing of a museum, but now he had another vision of himself in thirty years as a silver-haired eminence, presiding over this grand and historic showplace as business colleagues from all over the world came to pay their respects. He pounded his hand against one of the buttressed walls and said to Astrid, “I like all this old stonework. This house feels rock solid, not like your father’s rickety Black and White.”

“I’m glad you like it. It has a very different feel from my father’s place,” Astrid said measuredly.

It’s also bigger than your father’s house, Michael thought. He could already imagine what his brothers would say when they drove up: Wah lan eh, ji keng choo seeee baaay tua!^*5 He turned to Carmen and asked, “So, what will it take to get the keys to the front door?”

Carmen considered his question for a moment. “On the open market, this house would go for sixty-five, seventy million, easily. You’d have to make a compelling enough offer for the family to stop the listing tomorrow morning.”