1995. Singapore was caught up in a mood of euphoria. The economy was booming, companies were reporting records profits and unemployment levels were low. Properties were appreciating across the whole country and as most Singaporeans are property owners, there was a general feel good factor throughout the land. Wendy Lim and Lee Han Chung were newly weds. They had known each other for three years before they walked down the aisle, not exactly what one would call a whirlwind romance. Both were professionals; she was an accountant in a multi-national company and he was a banker with an American bank. Both earned good salaries and with the rapidly inflating property prices, they agreed that they should get a private property straightaway.
They lost count of the number of properties that they saw. Their ideal apartment size was 1,500 - 1,800 square feet, to plan for the children they wanted to have in the near future. Unfortunately, with space being a major constraint in Singapore, the canny developers had already caught on to the idea that if they built smaller units, they could sell more units with the allowable plot ratio. Virtually all the new developments came with floor area of 1,100 - 1,300 square feet. Eventually, after a lot of viewings and even more frustration, Wendy and Han Chung decided to go for a resale apartment.
Wendy was initially rather resistant over the idea of buying an old apartment, the idea of living in a space that had been inhabited by others was rather repulsive to her. It was a little like putting on someone else's underwear. However, after viewing a few resale apartments, she began to appreciate the charms of older places. They were far more spacious than most of the newer developments. They were also more likely to be located in quiet and green neighbourhoods.
Gradually, she became more attuned to the ambiance of places. She grew to believe that the character of any property had a little to do with its previous occupants. Like the three room apartment in one of the developments along Holland Road. The first time she entered it, she had felt an uplifting of the spirit, a gladness that made her feel like breaking out into song. Later, she found out that the previous owners had been a closely knitted family who had lived in the same apartment for almost twenty years. They were only selling so that the parents could move to a newer development in Jurong West, because that was where the oldest son had settled down with his family. It was a pity that the apartment was so far from her parents place in the East Cost. Otherwise, they would have bought it. As a result of her newly found sensitivity, Wendy found that she was unable to accept just any old apartment. The feeling had to be right. When Han Chung tried to press her for a more concrete explanation each time she rejected a property, she would only shrug. She knew that she would sound like a deranged woman if she vocalized her thoughts. She was also worried that Han Chung would not be able to accept them. At the same time, she wondered if this had come about because she had inherited certain powers from her grandmother.
Not that she used to believe in those powers. Her grandmother was a medium who would invite spirits, be they spirits of deities or the dead into her own body to answer believers or surviving relatives questions. Despite the many stories that she had heard about her grandmother's supernatural ability, she had always thought that her grandmother became a medium out of economic necessity more than religious fervor. For her grandfather had died early, leaving her grandmother, a young widow, to bring up their six children alone. Her mother had been the youngest of these six children and was also the only daughter. Her grandmother had depended on this trade to feed her brood and send them to school. Han Chung was catholic who took his faith seriously. She was not sure how he would react should he know that his fiancee had acquired such a gift.
They were going to view another apartment in the afternoon. Wendy knew that Han Chung's patience was running him. They had already seen numerous apartments and Han Chung had felt that several of them were suitable. But Wendy had vetoed them on very flimsy grounds. Both were quiet as they trave'led down the ECP, each immersed in his own thoughts. it was yet another three room apartment, this one on the fourteenth floor. It was being force sold by a bank. Their agent, a mild mannered middle aged Mr. Ee, met them at the lift lobby of the block that the apartment was situated at.
Wendy felt very apologetic when she saw him. he had reminded her of her own father, gentle and kind. He had been most patient with them, bringing them to apartment after apartment, never betraying the least time that they must have been his most picky and troublesome clients. The apartment was bright and airy, with full length windows fronting the balcony in the living room, framing a beautiful view of the sparkling sea. the previous owners had obviously taken good care of the place for it did not betray its age. There was no sign of any wear and tear. Han Chung loved it. Wendy hate it.
It was one of those sublime things again. The moment she entered the apartment, she felt this negative energy welling up inside her. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to walk out of the apartment. AS she opened her mouth to speak against the apartment, she saw the impatient look that Han Chung shot her. She shut it again. After they had finished the tour of the house, the agent quoted a price that made Wendy blink her eyes. Although it was a forced sale, she did not expect the bank to price the apartment 20% below market rate. Her heart sank as she saw the burning enthusiasm on Han Chung's face.
Later, as Han Chung was driving her home, she tried to talk him out of the idea of buying that apartment. 'In fact, why don't we buy a new development instead?' 'You already know why. Because they are too small and too expensive. It's not value for money!' 'But I thought...' 'I thought that this was what we agreed on after we saw the new development along Farrer Road. Why are you changing your mind now?' Wendy fell silent. She looked an Han Chung and realized from the set look of his face that he had fallen in love with the apartment. The day after, she received a call from a jubilant Han Chung. 'Wend?' 'Yeah?' 'Great news. I've spoken to the agent. The bank is willing to let go of the property at 10% below the asking price.' 'I don't...' Wendy tried to object. 'Please don't start again, Wend, do you know that you have been very disagreeable about almost all the apartments that we've seen. I really like this one and the price is just fantastic. Plus it's got a great sea view. Another thing, it's just fifteen minutes away from a golf club by car. And you know I've been wanting to pick up golf. So please don't say 'no'.'
Much as she was against the idea of buying that apartment, she knew that she was unable to deny Han Chung anything for long. He rarely asked her for anything, so she did not have the heart to say no when he did. Before long, she found herself signing on the dotted line, reluctant as she was. That night, she dreamt of her grandmother. Well, it had to be a dream even though there was a very life like quality to it. Although she might be more inclined to believe in powers inexplicable by science these days, she was still a long way from believing in apparitions. She was still troubled by the purchase; she kept contemplating if she had made a horrible mistake. Turning and tossing in bed, she suddenly shivered and realized that the temperature of the room had dropped considerably. Wondering if her air-con was malfunctioning, she was about to reach over for her air-con remote control when she heard a familiar voice that made her heart miss a skip.
'Ah Wend...' She shivered again, this time not from the cold but from fear. The voice belonged to her grandmother who died four years ago. 'Ah Wend...' She used to hate the way her grandmother addressed her, always dragging the last consonant slightly, giving her western name a cheena complex. But now, it added an eerie note to her already wildly spooked feelings. 'A... Ah ma, i... is that you?' 'Ya... I came to tell you: don't move into that East Coast place!' 'But why?' The news from her grandmother evaporated her fears. She knew that something was wrong with the apartment and she was right. Now, just knowing that she was right no longer satisfied her. She had to know what was wrong. But her grandmother just kept repeating the last phrase like she was a clockwork toy, only able to respond to the prior commands that were built into her and unable to react to any new stimuli in the environment.
'... don't move into that East Coast place don't move into that East Coast place don't move into that East Coast place...' Wendy was about to protest when a knock sounded on her bedroom place. The very much material sound dispersed the wraith like specter of her grandmother. She blinked her eyes, her grandmother was gone and the air-con was back to its usual temperature. She thought that she must have been dreaming. 'Come in!' it was her mother. 'Did I wake you up?' 'Yeah, but it doesn't matter, I was having a nightmare anyway. You want to see me about something?' 'Yes,' her mother paused for a short while, like she was searching for the right words. 'You went to sign the sale & Purchase agreement for the East Coast apartment today, didn't you?' 'yeah, is there anything wrong?' There was a puzzled note in Wendy's voice as she wondered where this was leading. It had been a while since her mother fussed over her.
'No, it's just that you seemed pretty down these few days, so your dad and I were wondering if there was any problem, like money problems or anything that you may need help with.' 'No, everything's fine. But thanks for asking, mum.' 'You are sure?' Wendy nodded. 'Well, if that's the case, I'll leave and let you get some sleep. You still have to go to work tomorrow. Goodnight.' On impulse, Wendy asked just before her mother left the room., 'Mum, did you ever believe that Ah Ma had the ability to communicate with spirits?' her mother's back stiffened. She turned around and walked slowly back to the side of Wendy's bed. Then she answered slowly, like she was choosing her words with the utmost care, 'Wendy, I've told you before, Ah Ma had no choice. She was uneducated, she had no money. In those days, life was not easy. Not like now, the poor can get relief from the government or other charities. Last time, everybody was poor. Who could help us? That's why your Ah Ma had no choice but to become a medium. You ask whether her abilities were genuine,' at this point, Wendy's mother shrugged her shoulders, 'who cares? It did not really matter because her clients believed her.'
From her mother's tone, Wendy knew that the topic was closed. So she just nodded and lay back down in bed. Her mother's occupation and her otherworldly qualities had always been a sensitive topic with Mrs. Lim. Wendy personally thought that it was because she was secretly ashamed of her mother's occupation. Maybe that was why Mrs. Lim turned out to be such a dedicated atheist. Anyway, her grandmother's abilities were genuine and some of it had been passed down to her, then it should have surfaced in her uncles or even her mother. But she had never heard the slightest hint of anything that was unusual about her mother's siblings. The most unusual thing that she could think was the time when her youngest uncle claimed to be able to make the camel on his cigarrete pack move using a glass of water. That had seemed like such a magical thing then, to the young five year old that she was. However, later, she went to school, she learnt about light and reflection and refraction and her uncle's act was demystified as a trick of optics. As for her mother, she was one of the most sensible and level headed people that Wendy had ever come across, even more so than Han Chung. So much so that there was not even a whiff of the supernatural around her.
So maybe she was just suffering from an overwrought imagination, what with the stress at work and having to cope with the preparations for her wedding at the same time. Maybe she should just take things slowly...
After the renovations, Wendy invited her parents to the apartment to take a look. Han Chung was already waiting for them in the apartment. He had just returned from golf practices. His golf clubs were resting in a corner of the living room. Somehow, the sight of the clubs made Wendy very uneasy. He had been spending an increasing amount of time playing golf these days, to the extent that she felt she had become a golf widow even before she's married. She had never seen him to be so obsessed with anything, other than the apartment. 'Very nice,' Mr. Lim nodded his head approvingly as he took in the marble floor, whitewashed walls and dark wood furniture. 'How much did you say you spent again?' 'About seventy five thou, pa, and ... mum, are you alright?'
Suddenly, Wendy noticed that her mother had turned as pale as a sheet, the blood draining out of her face. 'I'm alright. It's nothing, don't worry, I'm OK. Could be something that I had for lunch.' 'But the rest of us ate the same stuff and we're fine. Are you sure? Do you want to go to the toilet?' 'No! I mean, it's alright. I just want to go home and rest. Don't worry about me.' Before Mrs. Lim left, Wendy saw her mother throwing her a worried glance. 'I think I'll go home with my parents, Han, just to make sure that my mum is OK. Call me later tonight.' 'OK.' Surprisingly, once Wendy and her parents got into the car, Wendy noticed that her mother seemed to have recovered. Her colour had returned and she looked as well as she ever did.
On the way back to Marine Parade, Wendy puzzled over the look her mother gave her before leaving the apartment. Was her mother worried? What was she worried about? Was her mother suffering from any ailments and keeping it a secret from her? 'Wendy,' Mrs. Lim's voice roused her from her musings. 'Yes.' 'Are you happy with your new flat?' Taken aback, Wendy glanced at her mother. 'Ah... No... I mean yes, I think I am.' Loyalty to Han Chung compelled her to lie to her mother. 'Why do you ask?' 'It's really nothing. I was just wondering. I know it's a bit late, since you have already paid for it and renovated it. Still, I would like you to be perfectly happy after you leave home...' Mrs. Lim's voice trailed off, as if she was a little embarrassed by the emotions that she was displaying.
Wendy felt a little burst of warmth seeping from her chest to her extremities, melting in her eyes. 'I'm OK with the apartment, mom. Anyway, Han's over the moon about it. He really loves that place.' 'That's my worry.' 'Sorry?' 'Never mind. You are sure that you, I'm talking about you, not Han, feel alright about the apartment?' Mrs. Lim looked deep into her daughter's eyes, like she was searching for something. A little pause. 'Yeah.'
After the big day, the new couple moved into the apartment at Fxxxxxxx Txxxx, East Coast. Wendy was not happy there. Whenever she was in the house, she felt distinctly uncomfortable. She would become very fidgety and look for ways to distract herself from the negative energy that was encompassing her. She tried to spend as much time as possible out of her matrimonial home. She looked for new places to pass their weekends, dinner places and movies to spend their weekday nights. But it was not easy to get Han Chung to budge. He was rather homely person. Even in their courting days, they only went out for makan and movies occasionally. Given a choice, both would rather stay at home and curl up in bed or on the sofa with a good book than go clubbing or pubbing. It would take a lot to persuade Han Chung to leave the comforts of their home for the neon lights in town. Moreover, as Wendy was not by nature the partying sort, she too was rather exhausted by the constant entertainments that she had to conjure up to drag Han Chung out of the apartment.
To make matters worse, one of their neighbours seemed to have some serious domestic problems. Their block was a point block. This means that each level only has four apartments and the entrances of all four apartments face one another, rather like a square. The Loo family stayed in the apartment that was to the right of Han Chung's and Wendy's apartment. To the left was the Khoo family. Directly opposite them were the Singhs. It was not the Singhs, that much was clear for the shouting voices had a Chinese accent. Night after night, Wendy and Han Chung would be woken up, disturbed from their sleep, some time after twelve, by the yelling. They would hear the man screaming at his wife, then bangs, crashes and thuds, as things were thrown about, smashed and upset. Then the woman would begin crying, sobbing in pain as she begged for mercy.
In the daytime, when Wendy came across either the Loos and Khoos, she would steal glances at them, trying to observes which inconsiderate couple it was that disturbed the quiet of the nights. But she could never tell. In public, in the daylight, both couples seemed normal. There was also no telltale bruises or injuries on either Mrs. Loo or Mrs. Khoo. More than six months after moving in, Wendy ran into Mrs. Loo one afternoon when she went home to get change of clothes for a function that night. Wendy did not know her neighbours very well since she spent so much of her time outside. Most of the times when she ran into them, she would offer a hesitant smile or nod of acknowledgement and they would do likewise. To her surprise, this time she was accosted. 'Good afternoon, Mrs. Lee.' 'Hello, Mrs. Loo.' 'Mrs. Lee?' 'Yes?' 'Today is the start of lunar seventh month, will you be offering incense?' There was a pause. 'No, no! Don't worry, my husband and I, we are Catholics, so we don't believe in such practices. We won't mess up the place by burning incense.'
'Aiyah, that's not what I meant. Actually, I was reminding you to burn incense. You know, to appease those things?' 'What do you mean?' There was a touch of ice in Wendy's voice, as she felt that her neighbour was trespassing on private territory. Of course she knew about the lunar seventh month, given her late grandmother's occupation. It is the month in which the gates of Hell are supposed to be open, allowing all the lost souls in Hell to return to Earth for a visit. Or if the dead were already stuck in one place, unable to move on to the next stage in death because of some unresolved matter, then they would gain even more power during the seventh month. It is generally believed among the Taoist Buddhists that during this period, there are more deaths and accidents due to the activities of the supernatural. Such as people who died unnatural deaths always wanting to re-enact the scene of their demise, and in the process, claiming innocent victims. Wendy had always put that belief down as a base superstition.
'Aiyo, Mrs. Lee, you mean you do not know what happened to the previous owners of your apartment?' At a shake of Wendy's head, Mrs. Loo tsk-tsked, 'No wonder. I thought that you and Mr. Lee were so brave, you know. That although something so horrible happened in that place, you didn't mind staying there.' Despite her dislike of the talkative busybody, Wendy was compelled by curiosity to ask, 'What's happened in my apartment?' Gleefully, relishing her role as informant, Mrs. Loo plunged into one of her favorite topics, the scandal of Fxxxxxxx Txxxx. 'The previous owners were also a childless couple like you and your husband. The wife, Mrs. Ng, was a very nice lady. Friendly, polite and very pretty too, she always greeted the neighbours when she ran into them. Sometimes Fate is so strange, makes you wonder how a nice lady like Mrs. Ng married somebody so different. That Mr. Ng is a nasty one. He never bothered to greet the neighbours. If you were to take the same lift with him, he would just stare into the air, pretending not to know you. Or if you passed by him in the street, he would look ahead like he had not seen you. Not even a nod. But what should you expect from such a beast?' At this, she threw Wendy a sly sideways gaze. Wendy had uncomfortable feeling that Mrs. Loo was talking about someone else besides the previous neighbour, Mr. Ng.
'It's not that I'm uncharitable or anything, but that Mr. Ng was really... not quite right up here, you know.' She raised her index finger to her temple and turned it up and down to indicate a loose screw. 'Many times, in the middle of the night, we would hear him shouting and yelling at his wife. Sometimes we would also hear her moaning and crying,' her voice dropped to a hush, 'From the pain of the beatings, you know. The poor woman, I really don't understand why she didn't just walk out on him. After all this is the 90s. Singapore no longer tolerates such behavior, right?' She stopped for breath, and also to wait for Wendy to agree with her. Short of seeming rude, the latter had no choice but to nod. 'At the time, we did not know. Most of us just assumed that they were having domestic problems. Later on, after the whole thing, the police came and investigated, it all came out in the papers. That Mr. Ng had been embezzling money from his company! Young people these days.Ir turned out that with their salaries, they could not afford to buy this place. But property prices just kept rising. And both of them wanted to keep up with their friends who were doing very well, earning big bucks. So they stretched their credit limits really tight and bought this apartment. But they had not bargained for the other expenses like renovation fees that turned out to be higher than those quoted by the designer, maintenance charges which increased annually. So in the end, Mr Ng began to steal money from his company to pay his debts. Up to this day, people do not know if Mrs. Ng was aware of her husband's illegal deeds. But she was bore the brunt of it. He blamed her for what had happened and vented his ill feelings by beating her up. Then one day, when he learnt that the auditors were coming in soon to go through the company's accounts, he just lost it. That night, I heard Mrs. Ng screaming for help, something that had never happened before. I called the police. My husband told me not to be kaypoh, but I had to do something. And that cowardly husband of mine, I told him to knock on the Ng's door, to stop the husband but he kept saying that it was none of his business. If he had more guts and listened to me, thing's wouldn't have turned out the way they did.'
At this point, Mrs. Loo shook her head. 'The police arrived too late. By the time they broke into the house, they found Mrs. Ng blood splattered all over the walls in the living room.' Wendy found out that she was holding her breath. She told herself to breathe, in and out, in and out. Mrs. Loo was still caught in the thralls of her own tale. 'Mr. Ng had bludgeoned her to death with one of his Calloway golf clubs. Some say that he must come to his senses when he saw her sprawled on the carpet. he hung himself with his Pierre Cardin belt from the ceiling fan in the living room. Personally, I don't think so. I think he just realized that he would not not have been able to get away with it this time. This was no longer just a case of domestic violence. It was murder! This is Singapore, you know, you get hanged for such things. So instead of taking responsibility for his own actions, he chose to cheat the authorities of his death, by taking matters into his own hands!And do you know something else? It's a bit of a coincidence, but they died on the first day of the seventh lunar month. That means in the Chinese calendar, it is their death anniversary today!'
Mrs. Loo ended the tale with a dramatic flourish. Before Wendy could recover, she was off, claiming that she was late in picking up her son from school. 'So don't forget to burn those incense, OK? Right or wrong, those two died terribly, and one mustn't let those things become unhappy. It's better to be safe than sorry, you know. Aiyah, I've really got to go. I'll talk to you some other time. Bye-bye!'Having delivered her parting shot, a contented Mrs. Loo walked off, heading for her MPV, parked 15 meters away, under the shade, away from the wilting heat of the afternoon sun, happy that she finally managed to pass on her warning after all these months of holding back.
In the meantime, a stunned Wendy returned to her own apartment. No wonder they had managed to purchase the apartment at such a good price. Cannier buyers then they would have found out the apartment's history and shunned it. As she stepped into the living room, she was repulsed as she gazed at the walls and wondered which of them had been stained by Mrs. Ng's blood. She made up her mind in that instant, that night, she would talk to Han Chung, like it or not, she would move out, by herself, if necessary.She was about to leave when she remembered what she had returned for. Quickly, she went into her room, randomly picked a dress and a pair of shoes, stuffed them into a paper bag and left the apartment.
It was almost two when Wendy returned. The whole apartment was dark and quiet. 'Han must have gone to bed,' she thought to herself as she removed her shoes and held them in her hands to put them back into the box in her wardrobe. As she entered the living room, the silhouette in the armchair almost made her jump. 'Han, you gave me a fright. It's just as well that you have not gone to sleep. I need to talk to you about something.' She settled herself down in the three-seater placed at a right angle to the armchair. 'I was talking to Mrs. Loo this morning and she told me the history of this place. It's very tragic and I just don't feel comfortable staying here anymore. She said that the previous owners a couple died here. the husband killed the wife before committing suicide. So you see, that's why the bank was willing to sell it to us at such a low price, because nobody who knows that story would want to live here.'
Han Chung was still quiet. 'Why don't you say something, Han? You still want to stay, don't you? You're so attached to this apartment it's not normal! well, Lee Han Chung, you can stay on if you like but I'm not staying. I'm moving out, this very night!' Just as she was about to storm out of the seat and rush to her room to pack her things, one of the silhouette's hands sneaked out and grasped her wrist tightly. The touch of the hand was icy cold and burnt her skin. 'So that nosy bitch finally got to you? Well, it's too late!' The voice was low, raspy and rough, like the owner had grown up on a diet of gravel, and a far cry from Han Chung's smooth and well modulated baritone.
'You are not my husband/ Who are you? Where is Han?' Wendy cried frantically, trying to free herself and flee. Turning her head back, she saw Han Chung standing behind her, his face vacant, like he was sleepwalking. In his upswung hands, he held a Calloway golf club. He swung the club down with all his might. Wendy shut her eyes. The club landed on her skull with a sickening crack. There was a burst of sharp pain and beyond that, she knew nothing more.
From her mother's tone, Wendy knew that the topic was closed. So she just nodded and lay back down in bed. Her mother's occupation and her otherworldly qualities had always been a sensitive topic with Mrs. Lim. Wendy personally thought that it was because she was secretly ashamed of her mother's occupation. Maybe that was why Mrs. Lim turned out to be such a dedicated atheist. Anyway, her grandmother's abilities were genuine and some of it had been passed down to her, then it should have surfaced in her uncles or even her mother. But she had never heard the slightest hint of anything that was unusual about her mother's siblings. The most unusual thing that she could think was the time when her youngest uncle claimed to be able to make the camel on his cigarrete pack move using a glass of water. That had seemed like such a magical thing then, to the young five year old that she was. However, later, she went to school, she learnt about light and reflection and refraction and her uncle's act was demystified as a trick of optics. As for her mother, she was one of the most sensible and level headed people that Wendy had ever come across, even more so than Han Chung. So much so that there was not even a whiff of the supernatural around her.
So maybe she was just suffering from an overwrought imagination, what with the stress at work and having to cope with the preparations for her wedding at the same time. Maybe she should just take things slowly...
After the renovations, Wendy invited her parents to the apartment to take a look. Han Chung was already waiting for them in the apartment. He had just returned from golf practices. His golf clubs were resting in a corner of the living room. Somehow, the sight of the clubs made Wendy very uneasy. He had been spending an increasing amount of time playing golf these days, to the extent that she felt she had become a golf widow even before she's married. She had never seen him to be so obsessed with anything, other than the apartment. 'Very nice,' Mr. Lim nodded his head approvingly as he took in the marble floor, whitewashed walls and dark wood furniture. 'How much did you say you spent again?' 'About seventy five thou, pa, and ... mum, are you alright?'
Suddenly, Wendy noticed that her mother had turned as pale as a sheet, the blood draining out of her face. 'I'm alright. It's nothing, don't worry, I'm OK. Could be something that I had for lunch.' 'But the rest of us ate the same stuff and we're fine. Are you sure? Do you want to go to the toilet?' 'No! I mean, it's alright. I just want to go home and rest. Don't worry about me.' Before Mrs. Lim left, Wendy saw her mother throwing her a worried glance. 'I think I'll go home with my parents, Han, just to make sure that my mum is OK. Call me later tonight.' 'OK.' Surprisingly, once Wendy and her parents got into the car, Wendy noticed that her mother seemed to have recovered. Her colour had returned and she looked as well as she ever did.
On the way back to Marine Parade, Wendy puzzled over the look her mother gave her before leaving the apartment. Was her mother worried? What was she worried about? Was her mother suffering from any ailments and keeping it a secret from her? 'Wendy,' Mrs. Lim's voice roused her from her musings. 'Yes.' 'Are you happy with your new flat?' Taken aback, Wendy glanced at her mother. 'Ah... No... I mean yes, I think I am.' Loyalty to Han Chung compelled her to lie to her mother. 'Why do you ask?' 'It's really nothing. I was just wondering. I know it's a bit late, since you have already paid for it and renovated it. Still, I would like you to be perfectly happy after you leave home...' Mrs. Lim's voice trailed off, as if she was a little embarrassed by the emotions that she was displaying.
Wendy felt a little burst of warmth seeping from her chest to her extremities, melting in her eyes. 'I'm OK with the apartment, mom. Anyway, Han's over the moon about it. He really loves that place.' 'That's my worry.' 'Sorry?' 'Never mind. You are sure that you, I'm talking about you, not Han, feel alright about the apartment?' Mrs. Lim looked deep into her daughter's eyes, like she was searching for something. A little pause. 'Yeah.'
After the big day, the new couple moved into the apartment at Fxxxxxxx Txxxx, East Coast. Wendy was not happy there. Whenever she was in the house, she felt distinctly uncomfortable. She would become very fidgety and look for ways to distract herself from the negative energy that was encompassing her. She tried to spend as much time as possible out of her matrimonial home. She looked for new places to pass their weekends, dinner places and movies to spend their weekday nights. But it was not easy to get Han Chung to budge. He was rather homely person. Even in their courting days, they only went out for makan and movies occasionally. Given a choice, both would rather stay at home and curl up in bed or on the sofa with a good book than go clubbing or pubbing. It would take a lot to persuade Han Chung to leave the comforts of their home for the neon lights in town. Moreover, as Wendy was not by nature the partying sort, she too was rather exhausted by the constant entertainments that she had to conjure up to drag Han Chung out of the apartment.
To make matters worse, one of their neighbours seemed to have some serious domestic problems. Their block was a point block. This means that each level only has four apartments and the entrances of all four apartments face one another, rather like a square. The Loo family stayed in the apartment that was to the right of Han Chung's and Wendy's apartment. To the left was the Khoo family. Directly opposite them were the Singhs. It was not the Singhs, that much was clear for the shouting voices had a Chinese accent. Night after night, Wendy and Han Chung would be woken up, disturbed from their sleep, some time after twelve, by the yelling. They would hear the man screaming at his wife, then bangs, crashes and thuds, as things were thrown about, smashed and upset. Then the woman would begin crying, sobbing in pain as she begged for mercy.
In the daytime, when Wendy came across either the Loos and Khoos, she would steal glances at them, trying to observes which inconsiderate couple it was that disturbed the quiet of the nights. But she could never tell. In public, in the daylight, both couples seemed normal. There was also no telltale bruises or injuries on either Mrs. Loo or Mrs. Khoo. More than six months after moving in, Wendy ran into Mrs. Loo one afternoon when she went home to get change of clothes for a function that night. Wendy did not know her neighbours very well since she spent so much of her time outside. Most of the times when she ran into them, she would offer a hesitant smile or nod of acknowledgement and they would do likewise. To her surprise, this time she was accosted. 'Good afternoon, Mrs. Lee.' 'Hello, Mrs. Loo.' 'Mrs. Lee?' 'Yes?' 'Today is the start of lunar seventh month, will you be offering incense?' There was a pause. 'No, no! Don't worry, my husband and I, we are Catholics, so we don't believe in such practices. We won't mess up the place by burning incense.'
'Aiyah, that's not what I meant. Actually, I was reminding you to burn incense. You know, to appease those things?' 'What do you mean?' There was a touch of ice in Wendy's voice, as she felt that her neighbour was trespassing on private territory. Of course she knew about the lunar seventh month, given her late grandmother's occupation. It is the month in which the gates of Hell are supposed to be open, allowing all the lost souls in Hell to return to Earth for a visit. Or if the dead were already stuck in one place, unable to move on to the next stage in death because of some unresolved matter, then they would gain even more power during the seventh month. It is generally believed among the Taoist Buddhists that during this period, there are more deaths and accidents due to the activities of the supernatural. Such as people who died unnatural deaths always wanting to re-enact the scene of their demise, and in the process, claiming innocent victims. Wendy had always put that belief down as a base superstition.
'Aiyo, Mrs. Lee, you mean you do not know what happened to the previous owners of your apartment?' At a shake of Wendy's head, Mrs. Loo tsk-tsked, 'No wonder. I thought that you and Mr. Lee were so brave, you know. That although something so horrible happened in that place, you didn't mind staying there.' Despite her dislike of the talkative busybody, Wendy was compelled by curiosity to ask, 'What's happened in my apartment?' Gleefully, relishing her role as informant, Mrs. Loo plunged into one of her favorite topics, the scandal of Fxxxxxxx Txxxx. 'The previous owners were also a childless couple like you and your husband. The wife, Mrs. Ng, was a very nice lady. Friendly, polite and very pretty too, she always greeted the neighbours when she ran into them. Sometimes Fate is so strange, makes you wonder how a nice lady like Mrs. Ng married somebody so different. That Mr. Ng is a nasty one. He never bothered to greet the neighbours. If you were to take the same lift with him, he would just stare into the air, pretending not to know you. Or if you passed by him in the street, he would look ahead like he had not seen you. Not even a nod. But what should you expect from such a beast?' At this, she threw Wendy a sly sideways gaze. Wendy had uncomfortable feeling that Mrs. Loo was talking about someone else besides the previous neighbour, Mr. Ng.
'It's not that I'm uncharitable or anything, but that Mr. Ng was really... not quite right up here, you know.' She raised her index finger to her temple and turned it up and down to indicate a loose screw. 'Many times, in the middle of the night, we would hear him shouting and yelling at his wife. Sometimes we would also hear her moaning and crying,' her voice dropped to a hush, 'From the pain of the beatings, you know. The poor woman, I really don't understand why she didn't just walk out on him. After all this is the 90s. Singapore no longer tolerates such behavior, right?' She stopped for breath, and also to wait for Wendy to agree with her. Short of seeming rude, the latter had no choice but to nod. 'At the time, we did not know. Most of us just assumed that they were having domestic problems. Later on, after the whole thing, the police came and investigated, it all came out in the papers. That Mr. Ng had been embezzling money from his company! Young people these days.Ir turned out that with their salaries, they could not afford to buy this place. But property prices just kept rising. And both of them wanted to keep up with their friends who were doing very well, earning big bucks. So they stretched their credit limits really tight and bought this apartment. But they had not bargained for the other expenses like renovation fees that turned out to be higher than those quoted by the designer, maintenance charges which increased annually. So in the end, Mr Ng began to steal money from his company to pay his debts. Up to this day, people do not know if Mrs. Ng was aware of her husband's illegal deeds. But she was bore the brunt of it. He blamed her for what had happened and vented his ill feelings by beating her up. Then one day, when he learnt that the auditors were coming in soon to go through the company's accounts, he just lost it. That night, I heard Mrs. Ng screaming for help, something that had never happened before. I called the police. My husband told me not to be kaypoh, but I had to do something. And that cowardly husband of mine, I told him to knock on the Ng's door, to stop the husband but he kept saying that it was none of his business. If he had more guts and listened to me, thing's wouldn't have turned out the way they did.'
At this point, Mrs. Loo shook her head. 'The police arrived too late. By the time they broke into the house, they found Mrs. Ng blood splattered all over the walls in the living room.' Wendy found out that she was holding her breath. She told herself to breathe, in and out, in and out. Mrs. Loo was still caught in the thralls of her own tale. 'Mr. Ng had bludgeoned her to death with one of his Calloway golf clubs. Some say that he must come to his senses when he saw her sprawled on the carpet. he hung himself with his Pierre Cardin belt from the ceiling fan in the living room. Personally, I don't think so. I think he just realized that he would not not have been able to get away with it this time. This was no longer just a case of domestic violence. It was murder! This is Singapore, you know, you get hanged for such things. So instead of taking responsibility for his own actions, he chose to cheat the authorities of his death, by taking matters into his own hands!And do you know something else? It's a bit of a coincidence, but they died on the first day of the seventh lunar month. That means in the Chinese calendar, it is their death anniversary today!'
Mrs. Loo ended the tale with a dramatic flourish. Before Wendy could recover, she was off, claiming that she was late in picking up her son from school. 'So don't forget to burn those incense, OK? Right or wrong, those two died terribly, and one mustn't let those things become unhappy. It's better to be safe than sorry, you know. Aiyah, I've really got to go. I'll talk to you some other time. Bye-bye!'Having delivered her parting shot, a contented Mrs. Loo walked off, heading for her MPV, parked 15 meters away, under the shade, away from the wilting heat of the afternoon sun, happy that she finally managed to pass on her warning after all these months of holding back.
In the meantime, a stunned Wendy returned to her own apartment. No wonder they had managed to purchase the apartment at such a good price. Cannier buyers then they would have found out the apartment's history and shunned it. As she stepped into the living room, she was repulsed as she gazed at the walls and wondered which of them had been stained by Mrs. Ng's blood. She made up her mind in that instant, that night, she would talk to Han Chung, like it or not, she would move out, by herself, if necessary.She was about to leave when she remembered what she had returned for. Quickly, she went into her room, randomly picked a dress and a pair of shoes, stuffed them into a paper bag and left the apartment.
It was almost two when Wendy returned. The whole apartment was dark and quiet. 'Han must have gone to bed,' she thought to herself as she removed her shoes and held them in her hands to put them back into the box in her wardrobe. As she entered the living room, the silhouette in the armchair almost made her jump. 'Han, you gave me a fright. It's just as well that you have not gone to sleep. I need to talk to you about something.' She settled herself down in the three-seater placed at a right angle to the armchair. 'I was talking to Mrs. Loo this morning and she told me the history of this place. It's very tragic and I just don't feel comfortable staying here anymore. She said that the previous owners a couple died here. the husband killed the wife before committing suicide. So you see, that's why the bank was willing to sell it to us at such a low price, because nobody who knows that story would want to live here.'
Han Chung was still quiet. 'Why don't you say something, Han? You still want to stay, don't you? You're so attached to this apartment it's not normal! well, Lee Han Chung, you can stay on if you like but I'm not staying. I'm moving out, this very night!' Just as she was about to storm out of the seat and rush to her room to pack her things, one of the silhouette's hands sneaked out and grasped her wrist tightly. The touch of the hand was icy cold and burnt her skin. 'So that nosy bitch finally got to you? Well, it's too late!' The voice was low, raspy and rough, like the owner had grown up on a diet of gravel, and a far cry from Han Chung's smooth and well modulated baritone.
'You are not my husband/ Who are you? Where is Han?' Wendy cried frantically, trying to free herself and flee. Turning her head back, she saw Han Chung standing behind her, his face vacant, like he was sleepwalking. In his upswung hands, he held a Calloway golf club. He swung the club down with all his might. Wendy shut her eyes. The club landed on her skull with a sickening crack. There was a burst of sharp pain and beyond that, she knew nothing more.
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