Saturday, 22 August 2009
4:01pm
Orchard Road
With a few shopping bags in hand, Elise and I decided to be totally random and check out Ion Orchard, which had just opened the month before.
We gaped at the flagrant display of ostentatiousness, with so many higher-end brands represented there. It didn’t take long to walk the mall from the basement to the top, but I did succumb to temptation - buying a watch that I’d been eyeing for a while - a Tudor Hydronaut II. A modest purchase, compared to Darren’s stable of Pateks, AP and other names I can’t pronounce or be bothered to remember.
The vibe of the place didn’t appeal to us, so off we went to The Heeren.
We made a beeline for HMV, and discovered that our tastes in music were similar, although Elise’s had a more contemporary inclination.
Initially, we browsed the rows of CDs together, then slowly drifted off in our own directions. I wound up at the jazz section, seeking out the Jazz Royalties (artists from the 1920s onwards) in particular.
I was loading up a disc from Billie Holiday - the Queen of Song - when I felt Elise stand by my side. Motioning for her to put on the other set of headphones, I selected one of my favourite songs: the jazz standard from 1937, “Easy Living.”
Living for you is easy living,
It’s easy to live when you’re in love.
And I’m so in love
There is nothing in life but you.
I never regret the years I’m giving;
They’re easy to give when you’re in love.
I’m happy to do whatever I do for you.
For you maybe I’m a fool,
But it’s fun.
People say you rule me with one wave of your hand.
Darling, it’s grand,
They just don’t understand.
Living for you is easy living,
It’s easy to live when you’re in love.
And I’m so in love,
There’s nothing in life but you.
The lengthy instrumental introduction was, to me, so evocative. Anyone who’d ever been in love would take pause and reflect on the profound meaning and impact of this emotion.
With the end of the song, Elise and I then went into a lengthy discussion on whether a love so pure, so selfless and giving, could possibly exist and thrive in this modern day and age.
“I’m getting hungry,” Elise declared.
I never would have known that Elise had such a hearty appetite. Nothing at work had indicated such, but it’s really a pleasure to see a woman enjoy food. Elise had damned good genes to thank, where she could eat and still keep an amazing figure.
It was almost 7pm by then, so we headed off to a nearby food court and had a simple meal.
Saturday, 22 August 2009
8:40pm
Somerset’s Bar, City Hall
Discovered Elise’s weakness for barbecue chicken wings during dinner.
The night was still young, so - seeing that Elise could appreciate jazz - I suggested going for drinks at a nice little place at City Hall that had a great jazz quartet.
Elise had a natural grace and poise about her. As we were shown to a little corner table (my usual spot when I’m there by myself) by the gracious host, Elise made her way across the room in such a way that would give anyone the impression that she was probably a prim-and-proper diplomat’s daughter.
If they’d gotten a chance to see her take on that upsided cheeseburger, they’d think again, I smiled to myself. She’s quite the bundle of contradictions.
My usual spot featured a very low table, with two leather armchairs facing the small stage, but angled at 45-degrees to still face your companion.
If poetry in motion is an over-used cliché, then that’s still exactly how I’d describe Elise taking her seat. Placing her few shopping bags next to the armchair with a slight bend of her knees, she then stepped in front of the armchair. In one fluid motion, she kept her knees together, swept her dress down along the back of her thighs and lowered herself onto the seat, while keeping her back straight. Once settled, she then crossed one lovely leg over the other, again sweeping her hands down her thighs to tuck in the fabric of her dress neatly. All this happened in the span of a second or so.
She accepted the drinks list with a sincere and polite “thank you”. We looked through the available beverages, and both decided on a Long Island Iced Tea each. The host noted our orders and departed with a slight, dignified nod of the head.
The bar was basically a large room done up in the style of a European living room. The mahogany panelled walls, posters from bygone eras, lush leather seats and low mood lighting made it an excellent place to chill out, enjoy music or the company of your companion.
And Elise was indeed a very delightful companion, I admitted.
Still, I wondered why she wasn’t already spoken for.
And why, with only barely three weeks of working together, we were out together like this - almost like a couple.
A paranoid thought crossed my mind - a product of my sometimes overactive imagination - was she getting close to us - well, to me - in order to obtain information?
Dumb-fuck stupid idea lah, I berated myself. Not like Allison & Omari deals with military secrets or sensitive financial info. Hell, she’d probably have better access to whatever info as a member of staff, so why pounce on a bunch of outsiders?
Still…
If she was a spy, I’d be the first in line to try out some
very
kinky interrogation techniques on her.
The lights from the low ceiling chandeliers reflected in Elise’s eyes as she looked my way with a smile.
“This is quite a nice place,” Elise commented.
“Wait till you hear the music,” I said, signalling to the host that I wanted to place a song request when the quartet’s next set started.
Soon enough, the group assembled after a break and transported us to another place and time with their repertoire of jazz standards.
Finally, the African-American singer held the request slip in her finely manicured hands. “A regular is with us tonight, and has requested a favourite of his. And it’s a favourite of ours as well! I see you have a lovely lady with you this evening, so this song is for her. Ladies and gentlemen, Misty by Errol Garner.”
Look at me,
I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree.
And I feel like I’m clinging to a cloud
I can’t understand.
I get misty, just holding your hand.
Walk my way,
And a thousand violins begin to play.
Or it might be the sound of your hello.
That music I hear,
I get misty the moment you’re near.
You can say that you’re leading me on.
But it’s just what I want you to do.
Don’t you notice how hoplessly I’m lost?
That’s why I’m following you.
On my own,
Would I wander through this wonderland alone?
Never knowing my right foot from my left;
My hat from my glove?
I’m too misty and too much in love.
“That was a lovely song, great request,” sighed Elise, as the quartet adjourned for another break.
We sipped on our drinks in contemplative silence.
Curiosity got the better of me.
“So… What happened with you and your ex, Elise?” I asked gently, recalling how she had reacted when the subject was touched on last week.
Her lips pressed together into a thin line, and at that moment I was sorry for breaking the mood.
“I don’t know where to start,” she sighed sadly.
“The beginning. That’s perhaps the easiest.”
“I met Boon Chong during my university days. What drew me to him was that he always seemed kind and considerate of others. He had a sensitive soul; an EQ that I’ve never encountered in anyone before. The attraction was mutual, but it wasn’t a sparks and fireworks thing. It… felt like a coming together of two souls,” said Elise, her voice quavering as moisture started to form in her eyes.
“It was the happiest moment in the world for me when we finally held hands, and then shared our first kiss. On evenings when we’d hang out together at his place, it was a feeling of deep emotional connection that we shared.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, as Elise started twisting a paper napkin in her hands.
“We were… intimate,” Elise said shyly, “But it wasn’t frequent. I thought then that what we shared was deeper, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship that trip many couples up then it fizzles out.”
A tear ran down.
“Then over the years, we seemed to become more like friends. And… I admit that I missed his touches and… attention, in you know,
that
aspect… I then discovered the truth. And then it all made sense.”
Elise paused to take a breath, the napkin now resembling a Twisty.
“Boon Chong was gay.”
I almost choked on my drink.
OK, I was expecting him to be a bastard, or a cheater, or have indulged in some kind of villainy that made him deserving of condemnation. But this… this was unexpected.
“I was in denial. I mean, he was in denial for the longest time. He told me that he’d always been – tried to conform to what being ‘normal’ was. But that meant suppressing his own identity and sexuality. I thought that this was something that we could both work out together. But the final straw was when Boon Chong admitted that he’d been cheating on me. And he’s the fem in the other relationship.”
Elise’s chin was quivering as she held back her tears.
“I felt… I didn’t know what to feel. I felt unattractive. As a woman, it was fucked-up that your man was taken away… by another man.”
The poor girl buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body.
Our neighbouring patrons noticed the state Elise was in. The host hovered nearby, but I signalled that I had things under control. Well, actually, I didn’t.
Elise drew a deep breath and soon composed herself. “We parted relatively amicably. I mean, what else is there left to do, right? Last year, I saw on Facebook that he had gone off to the States to join his… partner. He looked so happy. But… I’m… I’m just left here. After 8 years with him.”
Eight years.
I thought about what eight years could mean.
In eight years, once could become a doctor.
In eight years, I’ve seen friends get together in the throes of love, get married and finally get divorced.
Eight years. For Archna, the Consultant who I took over the Allison & Omari assignment from, she would be dearly hoping that her 3-year-old son would win the fight against cancer and live to see his eighth birthday and beyond.
The eight years for Elise, from the tender age of 19 to 26, meant thinking that you knew someone and planned for a future together, only to have that dream irrevocably destroyed. She had given him the best years of her life.
I got out of my chair and sat on the low table, in front of Elise. I placed a hand on her arm to comfort her, believing it to be the most non-intrusive and neutral place to give comforting contact. I was mildly surprised when she brought her hand and placed it over mine.
“I… I felt unattractive. I mean, how could any woman lose her man to another man? I tried improving my dressing… to make myself more desirable. I.. tried to get over Boon Chong as quickly as I could. I tried dating again. But, but… I’m afraid of getting hurt again… One guy I dated only wanted to get me into bed… I can’t - I don’t know. I just feel lost,” exhaled Elise as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
The quartet came back on. And from the stage, they could see that something was going on at our table. The singer gave me an inquisitive tilt of her head in a gesture to ask if everything was alright. I returned her query with a slight smile and a ‘go-ahead-it’s-OK’ nod.
“For our next set, let’s keep things slow and mellow… God knows how much we all need to step back from time to time…” came the soothing voice of the singer, as the quartet commenced their next set of songs.
I felt Elise’s fingers tighten a little around my hand; she had noticed the unspoken communication.
“I’m sorry for creating a scene,” she said softly.
“There’s no need to say sorry. I… Couldn’t even imagine how you must have felt when these happened. I’m glad… and honoured that you trust me and opened up about it to me. I had no reason to ask.”
But then I couldn’t ignore the burning question in my head. The ‘cards-on-the-table’ part of my work as a Consultant demanded an answer from Elise.
“You, me, a wonderful day, where we are now, this…” I gestured to the both of us. “We’ve barely known each other for three weeks, what does this all mean?”
Elise looked down at her hand that was placed over mine. A solitary tear left a trail from her rosy cheek to her chin, and then made a descent down and into her full cleavage.
A song or two passed.
She then looked back up at me, eyes shining with earnestness. “I’m scared. And I don’t know.”
“But, you kind of… reminded me of Boon Chong.”
I sighed.
“Elise, I’m far, far away from being a kind and sensitive soul. If you’re looking for that, you’ll be sorely disappointed,” I stated gently.
“You keep selling yourself short. What I’ve seen so far… doesn’t seem half bad,” smiled Elise.
I sighed again.
“One thing for sure though,” I began.
“What?”
“…Is that there’s no way that I’d turn out gay. Love the, uh, ‘company’ of lovely ladies too much, you know,” I said as I cleared my throat at the word ‘company’.
“Thanks for the assurance! Now I see the insensitive jerk side of you,” laughed Elise as she tossed the twisted napkin at me.
Another song passed.
I leaned toward Elise and said, “And you… you were saying that your great looks was something that you had to work on?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “One has to put effort in, you know.”
“You’re quite like Estella in
Great Expectations
, no?” I teased.
Elise chuckled and made a face. “Better to be Estella than Miss Havisham.”
With the heavy conversation topic out of the way, the fine music and the Long Island Iced Tea helped put Elise back in better spirits. She applauded the quartet enthusiastically when they retired for the evening.
I had returned to my seat, a gut feel telling me that Elise would need a little space. We chatted about inconsequential things, and discovered that we both shared a passing interest in English literary works.
All too soon, we agreed that it was time to head home.
With the trains out of service at close to 1am, we called for a cab and I dropped her home at her place, an older terraced house, at Tanah Merah.
Just before Elise swung her legs out to exit the taxi, she thanked me for a wonderful day out.
As much as I was tempted to ask her out again later on in the day - it was still the weekend after all - I took the rational approach and gave her some space and time to work through her thoughts.
“Pleasure was all mine, Elise. See you on Monday,” I said as I handed her the shopping bags.
Elise’s smile was what I took home with me as the cab drove off.
Monday, 24 August 2009
8:47am
Day 21
Main staff pantry, Allison & Omari
“That’s a nice outfit you’ve got on Elise! Where’d you get it from?” asked Seha - the fashionista of the turnaround team - as I joined them at the hot water dispenser queue.
I recognised the top and skirt from our weekend shopping session.
“Oh, it’s from Flair, a shop at Tampines Mall. Got it over the weekend,” replied Elise, as she gave me a friendly wave.
“Ohhhh… Retail therapy is always fun! Someone special accompany you?” probed Seha.
Elise tightened the cap on her flask and said, “Don’t know about special… yet…”
“But he’s someone nice,” continued Elise with a smile, as she locked eyes with me on her way out of the pantry.
“Well,” said Seha when Elise was not within earshot. “There’ll be plenty of broken-hearted and jealous guys out there when Elise is off the shelf.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” I acknowledged, a stirring starting in my pants…
Thursday, 27 August 2009
3:04pm
Day 24
The Cave, Allison & Omari
I had submitted the team’s regular report and recommendations, gone off to fix myself a large mug of coffee, and noticed a small message at the status bar of the Perseus system landing page:
Agamemnon is online. All staff to log off to facilitate priority access. Thank you.
Oh shit.
And then the mobile phones from the turnaround team and mine as well, started to ring.
Oh major shit.
Thursday, 27 August 2009
3:05pm
Day 24
The Base, Allison & Omari
“Conman, Nazri from Manticore IT Security here. We detected a data breach in Perseus. We intercepted part of an outgoing data stream that contains fragments of your notebook’s encrypted hardware ID. Your turnaround team’s computers are also compromised.”
I told Nazri to hold the line, as I walked into the meting room next door and placed the call on speaker phone so that the rest of the team could be briefed. I shut the door and locked it.
According to Nazri, ITSec was aware of our occasional drops in connection, but assessed that it may have been due to Allison & Omari’s aging network infrastructure. Furthermore, nothing unusual was detected in both outgoing and incoming data traffic between us and Perseus. With the tripping of Perseus’ cyber security system, ITSec logged an unusual IP address, and were running a trace. But whoever was responsible would likely be smart enough to try covering their tracks.
“Find out as much as you can to see if there’s a possibility of an inside job. Whatever leads you have may could turn out useful. In the meantime, bring all affected notebooks back to Manticore Corporate to swap for new ones. Fall back to 3G mobile dongles for access to Perseus. We’re running a system sweep to weed out backdoors, and see what data could have been accessed,” advised Nazri.
We heard a knock on the door, and saw the top of Elise’s head above the frosted glass portion of the meeting room wall. She went on her tiptoes, and her eyes and cute little nose appeared. Elise’s eyes widened when we saw the sombre expressions on our faces. Then, she walked away.
Turning to the assembled team, I said, “OK, no one other than us knows about this. Let’s keep it that way. It’s only 3pm in the afternoon, so we can’t all pack up and go back to Corporate. Too obvious. Swap your PCs after work, we can all knock off at 5:30pm to do the needful.”
“What about Elise? She’s our point of contact here. Can she know about this?” asked Sally.
A damned good question.