“I don’t know.”

“Alamak! How can you not know when he invited you?”

Philip sighed. “I didn’t think to ask. It wasn’t relevant since we weren’t going.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the conversation in the first place?”

“Because I knew you were going to be unreasonable about it.”

“You are a moron! An absolute moron!” Eleanor screeched.

“See, I knew you were going to be unreasonable.”

Eleanor played with her braised noodles, seething on the inside as she pretended to listen to the bishop complain about some pastor’s wife who was spending millions trying to become a famous pop star. At the children’s table, Cassian’s au pair was trying to coax him into finishing his lunch. “I don’t want noodles! I want ice cream!” the boy fussed.

“It’s Chinese New Year. No ice cream for you today,” his au pair said firmly.

Suddenly, an idea came to Eleanor. She whispered to one of the serving maids, “Can you please tell Ah Ching that I have a sore throat from all this heaty food and I’m desperately craving some ice cream?”

“Ice cream, ma’am?”

“Yes, any flavor. Anything you might have in the kitchen. But don’t bring it to me here—I’ll meet you in the library.”

• • •

Fifteen minutes later, after having paid off Cassian’s au pair with five crisp hundred-dollar bills, Eleanor was sitting at the black lacquered scholar’s table in the library, watching the little boy devour an ice-cream sundae out of a large silver bowl.

“Cassian, when your mummy is away, you just tell Ludivine to call me, and my driver will come and pick you up and take you for ice cream anytime you like,” Eleanor said.

“Really?” Cassian said, wide-eyed.

“Absolutely. It will be our little secret. When is your mother going away? Did she tell you she is getting on an aeroplane and going to America soon?”

“Uh-huh. In March.”

“Did she tell you where she was going? Is she going to Cupertino? Or San Francisco? Los Angeles? Disneyland?”

“LA,” Cassian said while gulping down another spoonful.

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. March gave her enough time. She patted the boy on the head and smiled as he stained the entire front of his Bonpoint dress shirt with hot fudge. Serves Astrid right for trying to keep things from me!

*1 Hokkien for “red packet,” these red envelopes embossed in gold are stuffed with cold hard cash and are given out during Chinese New Year by married couples to single people, especially children, for good luck. Amounts vary according to the giver’s income bracket, but it is safe to say that the minimum amount in more affluent households is a hundred dollars. By the end of the week, most kids make out with thousands of dollars, and for some, their entire allowances for the year depend on this ritual. In another departure from tradition, the ang pows at Tyersall Park were made of a pale pink vellum, and always contained a nominal but symbolic amount. This explains the generations of children taken to Tyersall Park every New Year who would blurt out in disappointment, “Kan ni nah—only two dollars inside!”