She had just spotted the flat and was about to walk toward it when someone called out her name.
“Noorie!” She turned instinctively. A Chinese woman, in her early thirties, was standing a few metres away, holding several plastic bags. Beside her was a little girl—six, maybe seven—gripping a small teddy bear in one hand and her mother’s shirt in the other. The girl peered up at Noorie shyly, eyes wide with curiosity.
“What are you doing here?” the woman asked, balancing the bags with effort.
“I… I came to visit a friend. I think he lives around here. You stay here too?”
“Yes,” the woman replied, trying to adjust her grip on the bags. Without hesitation, Noorie crossed the walkway.
“Here—let me help you with those. I didn’t know you lived here!”
“You’re always not around,” the woman said, smiling wryly. “Always missing in action. Even my wedding—you never came.”
Noorie winced. “I know. I’m sorry. Truly. Where’s your house?”
“Same block.” She gestured toward the flat she was just about to enter.
“Come up.” Noorie followed them to the lift. They exited on the 10th floor and turned left, walking past a corridor lined with neatly arranged potted plants. It was peaceful. Lived-in.
“Where’s your friend’s unit?” the woman asked.
“Same block… but never mind,” Noorie said. “I’d rather spend time with you and Adeline.” They reached the last unit at the corner. The woman pulled out her keys and unlocked the gate. A wooden door stood behind it, simple, with a small cross fixed at its centre.
“Come in, come in! This is the first time you’re visiting us, right?”
“Yes,” Noorie replied. “I’m bad. Really bad. I need to make up for all the lost time—especially with Adeline.” The little girl sat on the sofa, still clutching her teddy bear, staring at the woman who kept calling her mother Sis.
Noorie sat beside her and smiled gently. “Where have I been all these years? You’ve grown into such a pretty little girl. I love that smile.” The woman came from the kitchen and sat across from them.
“You were never around. Every time we came, you were either on night duty or off somewhere with your friends. Even during Hari Raya—we couldn’t catch you.”
Noorie nodded, her voice quiet. “I know. But it’s not too late. I promise I’ll make up for it. Especially with Adeline.” She turned to the girl.
“Have you ever gone ice skating?” Adeline shook her head, eyes still fixed on her. “When your mommy and I were younger, we used to go to Kallang Ice Rink every Saturday. Morning till evening. Our pants would be soaking wet by the end—but we had so much fun.”
The woman smiled. “Those were the good days.”
“I’ll teach you,” Noorie said. “Not just skating—but all the stunts your auntie knows, okay?” The child beamed and looked at her mother, who gave a gentle nod. The house was modest but warm. A wooden dining table for eight stood near the kitchen entrance. A black leather sofa set filled the living room comfortably.
On the wall above the television was a framed image: a wine glass, a loaf of bread, and two slices beside it. Below it read: “Jesus of Nazareth requests the honor of your presence at a dinner to be given in his honor.”
It struck her—simple, direct, strangely beautiful. She wasn’t religious anymore, but something about it resonated. She let her eyes roam. Then a small wedding photo in the corner of the living room caught her attention. She hadn’t noticed it before. She stood and walked toward it.
The bride looked familiar. She leaned in for a closer look—and recognised not just the woman.But the man. The shock came slowly. Quietly.
“This is your wedding photo?” she asked, her voice even.
“Yes,” the woman replied. “You’ve never met my husband, right?”
“No,” Noorie said softly. She stared again at the man’s face in the picture. The child. The flat. The story had clicked into place. She stood in silence for a moment longer, then turned back to them with a composed smile.
They chatted a while longer—about nothing in particular. She made small promises. Ice skating. Hari Raya. Making time. Later, as she left, she turned one last time. Mother and daughter stood in the doorway, waving.
She waved back. Once she was out of view, she slipped a folded piece of paper from her pocket. She glanced at it, then looked up at the flat again. The numbers matched. That was all she needed to know.
“Tell father we’ll be there for Hari Raya!” the woman called out.
“I will,” Noorie replied. And walked toward the lift.
Chpt 27 / 36
