Jane Vejjajiva by Unknown

she had wanted. The showy blossoms had appeared the very day that Mother had left them all. Uncle Dong blamed the rain. Usually the leadwort flowered thirty days after pruning, but the rain had delayed the flowers and Mother had missed out on its floral beauty.
    Kati sat and admired the flowers in Mother’s stead. There were many things in life that Kati didn’t understand. Death was one of them. Tong said you had to find comfort in the Buddha’s teaching, and
    when Kati was older she would understand it all for
    herself. To understand all this she’d have to be a lot older than he was now, he concluded with a lame smile.
    The goods in the house were gradually being packed up and stored in boxes. Nurse Wannee would go back to Bangkok tomorrow with Tong and his uncle. Uncle Dong would take Grandpa and Grandma home to the house on the water and then meet up with Kati in Mother’s home in the city.
    As for Kati, she would journey on to find the missing piece in the puzzle of her life.
    part three

the hom e
in the city

The Key Rin g
    I knew that some day you would come here.
    It was close to noon when the car turned into a laneway that broke off from the busy main road. In an instant the heavy traffic receded into the distance. Big East Indian walnut trees grew at intervals along the lane, and to the right ran a little canal. It was nothing like the home by the sea that Kati had left, and vastly different from the home on the water to which she had not yet returned. Yet somehow, the home in the city captured Kati’s attention from the instant she first set foot in it.
    The entrance hall was floored with marble. The noise from Aunt Da’s high heels echoed in the silence as Kati followed her across the foyer. They took a lift to the thirteenth floor and Uncle Kunn turned to tell Kati that Mother had liked the number thirteen.
    ‘When she was looking for an apartment she was very pleased to find this one on the thirteenth floor,’ he said.
    ‘Patra said she wanted Kati to be the one who opened the door,’ Kati heard Aunt Da whisper to Uncle Kunn. Uncle Kunn bit his lip before handing Kati a red key ring in the shape of a star.
    It seemed that Mother had sketched out every detail of what would happen after she left them. It made Kati feel as if Mother was still close by, and helped to ease the dreadful emptiness she felt in her chest.
    The olive-green door opened with a strong push from Kati. How long had passed, she wondered, since Mother had been strong enough to open this door by herself?
    The polished parquet floor complemented the cream-coloured walls. The comfortable sofa with its pattern of tiny green, yellow and white flowers added to the cosy atmosphere. Everything in the room had been designed to fit together beautifully, reflecting the personality of the departed owner. Kati still held the key ring, and now she unlocked one room after another. It was as though she was opening doors to the past, the past that she wanted so much to know.
    There was one big bedroom, and a quick glance was enough to tell Kati it had been Mother’s room. Next to it were two small bedrooms. One had belonged to a child; this must have been Kati’s own room. Another was perhaps a guest bedroom as it was rather sparsely furnished. Kati guessed it had been used for a nurse like Wannee.
    Finally there was a set of stairs leading up to the floor above. But here Aunt Da pulled Kati back, shaking her head. ‘Better leave that till later.’
    The kitchen had big windows which were an invitation to look down onto the luxuriant trees that grew in a garden below. Uncle Kunn said the garden belonged to an ambassador’s residence, and sometimes at night there were parties: the house was decorated with lights and the pretty music wafted up to the thirteenth floor. Kati saw lots of birds she’d never seen before – Tong would have loved to see them and discover what kinds of birds would come to live in the middle of a city.
    Kati sat on a