The Heirloom

**Five Weeks Ago**

[24A, Seletar Hill Drive, Singapore - Residence of Jacqueline Mitchell]

“Look, you’re not going to be offered such a deal anywhere else. The buyer has a special interest in large emeralds, particularly the necklace you own,” the heavily accented voice came through the receiver. “Just so you know, I’ve got several other pieces I’ll be presenting to them. So don’t take too long to decide, Jackie.”

“I hear you, Arno. It’s not a decision I can make lightly… you know how much this means to me,” she replied, pressing the phone against her ear as she grimaced.

“As I said, the finance terms I’ve worked out for you hinges on the sale of this necklace. You sell it and you’ll also get funds for your expansion. Where are you going to get such a deal?”

“I agree, two and a quarter million dollars is a good price, and the consideration of a finance package for the business is attractive. I’m not arguing with that. I just need a little more time to think about it. I’m still interested...”

“Besides, I understand you’re sentimental about your heirloom, but you still have your earrings. The buyer will not wait forever, Jackie. I hope to hear from you real soon.”

“I got it.”

A frown formed on her face when she ended the call. She slumped in her seat and heaved a sigh. She knew her heirloom was worth a lot. It was a necklace set with seven flawless emeralds of the highest grade [1]. Even so, the price offered was more than she had expected. She just wished he wasn’t so pushy.

*I’m glad it didn’t go beyond a peck on the cheek, or things would be really awkward right now. Maybe I’ve already said too much? He seems to know which buttons to press.*

Arno Pieterson was a broker of precious gemstones, a former Van Cleef & Arpels appraiser who had been in the business for more than a decade. Jackie contacted him through a friend to get a valuation done on the emerald necklace she inherited.

Jackie was coming to thirty, had never been in a serious relationship, and it hardly bothered her. She valued her independence and rarely sought help from any quarter. Her grandparents raised her this way.

To her, it was all about her career. She wasn’t one to fawn over men and most of them simply found her outgoing personality and ambitious drive too intimidating. And not surprisingly, her gorgeous looks and that innate self-confidence she possessed often made her appear somewhat “out-of-reach” for most men.

Her thoughts wandered back to the present. With the new services her company recently embarked on, cashflow was already an issue, and now she had to figure out a way to kick-off the Vietnam project. She had over-extended her resources, and she knew it.

Her company had been working on making an entry into the Vietnam market for several months, and progress had been phenomenal. She didn’t expect things to fall into place so smoothly and quickly. She now had the opportunity to expand her business regionally, and it would change the entire profile of her company.

It was undoubtedly a risk, and she needed the assurance of finding a funder to back her through the pre-profitability phase of the business. She couldn’t understand why the financiers were playing coy -- at times, she wondered if some parties were conspiring against her.

But when Arno Pieterson came back to her with a deal that she found hard to resist, she knew she at least had options.

*Maybe it’s time to consider his offer… But should I? No! That’s not going to happen. Not Grandma’s emerald necklace!*

Deep in her heart, she knew there was no way she would consider selling her heirloom. Her grandmother never told her where it came from, and she never asked.

Neither Jackie nor her grandmother ever wore the necklace. But it came along with a matching pair of teardrop earrings, and she never failed to receive compliments whenever she wore them to functions.

She fiddled with a vanity box on her study table. It was her grandmother’s and Jackie took possession of it after her death. Her grandfather had handed it to her, then a year later he passed away. It was the saddest time of her life, for they had both meant so much to her.

* * *

Jackie opened the box and looked through the old photographs. She picked one up and stared at it blankly. It brought her no warmth or emotion. It was a picture of her parents, Tom and Cassandra Mitchell -- she barely knew them, except for their names.

She had dim recollections of her mother and knew even less of her father. Her grandmother had once mentioned he was working for Lloyd’s, and one day, without a word, he just packed and left after the 1998 financial crisis hit.

Her mother never recovered from it. She took to the bottle and passed away three years later in a freak accident. Jackie was raised by her grandparents when she was only eight.

She picked up another photograph, a very old-looking one. It was a picture of her grandmother as a toddler with another lady. She smiled somewhat ruefully.

*All grandpa said that she was my great-grandmother. I don’t even know her name…*

She put the photo down and picked up yet another. This time, a smile broke out on her face, but her lips quivered slightly and the corners of her eyes drooped. Her eyes misted as she recalled the memories of the two people she ever really cared for and loved.

It was a photograph of her grandmother as a young maiden in England, and there was a handsome young officer by her side. The photograph was dated 1959.

Her grandmother’s past was a mystery. Jackie only knew she came to Singapore from Brighton at the age of twenty-five to marry her childhood sweetheart, captain Ronald Watson, who was then based in RAF Seletar.

Grandpa Ron, as she fondly called him. He retired from the air force in 1969 and later joined Harper Gilfillan Pte. Ltd. as a senior manager in the shipping line.

She always thought she took after her grandmother, an English beauty with oriental features, and Grandpa always joked that she had returned to her homeland. But grandma never once spoke of her background. The locals naturally presumed she was of Eurasian descent, and it was common for them to refer to her as a *Serani* [2] beauty.

It was the same with Jackie, who was teasingly given the moniker “Serani girl” in school. While she did not have her mother’s blonde hair, she shared many exquisite Caucasian features from her maternal side. But she always had a suspicion she was partly Chinese, for she also had distinctly oriental traits that added to her allure.

She smiled warmly as she recalled the wonder years in the care of her grandparents. Their unconditional love had helped her through trying times.

And she knew in her heart she’d never want to part with the only thing that reminded her of their kind, gentle nature -- the heirloom.

*Damn… What am I to do? There’s got to be a way to move forward on this… I just hope the funders will give our business plan due consideration.*

As anxiety got the better of her, she clicked on her office email.

*Let’s see if there’s any news from any of the financiers we’re speaking to.*

Her eyes were immediately drawn to one particular message sent by her head of business.

*Subject: Tech Venture Capital -- Robert Tang.*

Endnotes:

[1] A white gold chain mounted with seven emeralds on diamond-studded settings. The largest of the emeralds being a 14-carat stone and the other six between 8 to 10 carats (Shape & cut: oval, emerald cut; Colour: Bluish-green, medium saturation).

[2] “Serani” - generally refers to those born from the intermarriage between people of Asian and European descent.

* * *