Naty the Amah

“So what is important to you”?

“The work madam.”

“Yes, but what else, what do you like to do on weekends?”

“I like to dance madam. My group will meet this Sunday for our performance. I would like for you and Mr. Jason to come.”

“I see.” 

"I have nine brothers and sisters and two children. I like babies very much."

She stares at  me for a moment then makes two cups of ginger tea. “Well, if you want the gig its yours. Do you want this job? Do you, like, want to hang out with us?”

“yes maam.”

Mr Jason is away for work for the first week and you are always trying to get to some meeting at 7.30am but never make it. I am always making you coffee and dressing you.

“Madam this is for you but  I think don’t drink it yet, it is too hot. Please come here and we will do your hair”

You are on the phone. “This is a 'nice to have', and it is not my problem. You are wasting my time.” You hang up and make some buffalo noise.  Matilda does not laugh.

“Mummy has to put you down for a minute. She is working with your Amah Naty to get dressed. I love you”.

A ritual established where you come home at a  reasonable hour each night and cry. You try not to do it in front of Matilda and me. I don’t know why, we have no secrets.

It is on a Thursday that I find you putting powder up your nose in the morning. In Singapore Madam! Washed down with a drink. You are in the baby’s room. I don’t know why you are doing this, the baby is so healthy and beautiful. Don't stress, its a prescription. You straighten your clothes, promptly tell me that I must go home for the anniversary of my mum’s death and book flights for me. I can see violence in your white face.