I was given a nice cup of tea. I somehow preferred English tea to Chinese tea. Maybe, it was because of my sweet tooth. I could not help noticing the very expensive tea set that was used to serve tea here. She must be quite well-off. She had gone upstairs to change. I looked around. There was a big computer screen, showing the monitoring pictures of various areas of the estate. I thought this must be where she had been watching me, as there was a glimpse of the road running at the front of the house. There were quite a few bookshelves of books and other sets of ornaments. All looked very scholastic and tasty. A fresh vase of flowers stood on the table in the middle of the room. There was a log fire in the fireplace. The room smelt a nice fragrance.

I would imagine a sitting room like this when I get old. The setting was comfortable and the fragrance, pleasant. I was particularly sensitive in the nose. That was perhaps why I could never fit in with the countryside life in the village of my grandpa's. I was born to be a city-dweller, just like my father. He had a sensitive nose too. Out of idleness, I played with that monitoring computer and tried to zoom in and out and switch between the coverages. Suddenly, I could see my hostess in her bedroom. She was combing her hair. She was in a nice dark blue business suit. Had she been wearing less, I would have switched the focus. She looked so far like Elizabeth Taylor, one of my favourite Western actresses. She had a nice and curvy body, which had fully blossomed in her age. I found in her that kind of mature beauty portrayed in classic paintings, with radiant skin reflecting her inner peace and harmony. Her eyes had the depth of soul-searching wisdom, coupled with a twinkle of curiosity, which was usually a sign of youth?Suddenly, she smiled, as if she was smiling at me. I realised that she could be watching me, since there might be such monitoring computers all over the house. I smiled back awkwardly.

"I will be ready in a few minutes"
She quickly finished her last few strokes with her comb. We did not even introduce each other. I came in with an intuitive feeling that we had known each other for a long time. And once in the house, I was feeling rather at home. It happened to me before. It was the same with people. With some people, you could feel at ease at once, without the need to get to know each other to start with. If I had believed in reincarnation, I would say that we had met in our last lives. But how did she know my name, I wondered.

Updates from 2nd January:

She came down all tidy and fragrant. She sat in the sofa opposite me, with a smile on her face. She picked up a manuscript from the desk and passed it to me.

I'm writing this book on China. I wonder whether you could proof-read it for me. Of course, you will be paid for your time and efforts.?#060;BR>
I would be honoured to do that, for free, since I am no expert.?#060;BR>
I have it proof-read by professionals already. I just want to see how you would read it as a Chinese, born and educated in China, during the periods covered in my book. You WILL be paid, I insist.?#060;BR>
I accepted it. That was that. But how did she know so much about me? I was just going to ask her this question when she said,

Phil, could you give me a lift to the University? I am giving a lecture on play-writing today.?
It was a cold morning with sunshine. We drove on almost in silence. She was going through her notes for a while. Then, she closed her eyes, as if trying to go over her lecture in her mind. She looked younger and more attractive in her formal attire. Different dresses could change women into different shapes and perhaps different orientations for male fantasies. For women, dressing up was perhaps as important as making up. I guessed she was in her forties. Now she looked her thirties. She had a good life, perhaps as an intellectual, no hard line or scar on her face. Only the movement of her eyeballs told me that she might be aware of my stare. I had some questions to ask her, but that would have be later. I would have to wait. I could never live with moments like that without getting irritated. I liked to get to the bottom of my questions as soon as possible.

I remembered spending days and nights on one of the ancient mathematical puzzles when I was in primary school. That was shortly before Mao's death when education comprised both formal and extra-curriculum forms. I had joined a few after-school play groups, including writing and mathematics. I really enjoyed that period of my primary school education. After Mao's death in 1976, education went back to the traditional track of passing formal exams, which was a lot of hard work, with little fun.

I would not sleep on an unanswered question either. I would repeat my questions over and over in my mind. Her silence was certainly putting me under a lot of pressure. Maybe, she did it deliberately. Was I a guinea pig for her China-observation as well? I couldn't stop wondering.

We bid each other goodbye when we arrived at the University. It was my university too. We moved from Hull to Lincoln. This new campus was opened by the Queen. With its magnificent castle and cathedral, Lincoln seemed to hold a special place in the Queen's heart. This campus was lovely, by the Brayford pool with quite a few swans and ducks, and a flourishing boating club. But the nearby railway gave the buildings rattles all the time. One wondered whether this would do any good to the long-term sustainability of the buildings... .

She went into the automatic door. She looked very good in her sharp formal suits. She must have taken a lot of time looking after her body, which was naturally one of the main engagements for middle-class women anyway. (to be continued next week.)

Updates from 8th January:

I went to work as usual at 10 o'lock in the evening. Something was not right in the air. My heart was thumping wildly as if in fear or in expectation of some unknown happenings. The odd tree was almost crying in the strong and cold wind. Its barren branches thrust this way and that way. I was expecting the unexpected. But what happened when I arrived at Omni.com was more than unexpected. The place was empty, to be more accurate, the building had disappeared out of the sight.

I paced around the empty ground, which now looked really out of the place among the fields. Just like the other time when my wife accidentally shaved the top of my head. I somehow remembered that funny incident, though my mood was never humorous at that moment. I was half expecting them to turn up suddenly out of nowhere, as if this was another experiment. Another half of me told myself that I had lost my job, a thing which was that much important than any other aspects of me, as a social being or a family man. What now? What was I going to tell my wife? I had been searching for this kind of job for a long time. This was almost the ideal job, which allowed me to look after the kids while my wife pursued her successful career. It paid well enough for me to justify my existence as a collective being, with regard to society, family and the bigger family including my parents and her parents. I felt falling back into that black hole again, before I landed this job.

I did not know how long I paced that place. There was this song by Omni in the air, which went on and on:

I was never lonely by myself. I was lonelier in a crowd. I smiled on the outside while bleeding on the inside. I was never lonely by myself. I was lonelier in a crowd...Those sleepless nights, waking up by my soul...I was never lonely by myself. I cried out for the reunification of my body, my heart and my soul. I was never lonely by myself. My body craved, my heart cared, and my soul bonded with that eternal triangle. I was never lonely by myself?#060;BR>
Omni and I made up that song when we played that musical game. I felt so lonely and hopeless there and then. Finally, I gave up and started my old and reliable VW Golf. Memories flashed through my mind while I drove without a clear sense of direction on the Lincolnshire B roads. It could just be another accident on these dangerous roads. However, I was hanging onto life like never before. Before I realised it, I had driven onto that lady's driveway and stopped in front of her house. I was woken up from my senseless thoughts by a loud motor engine roar. She had just taken out her big black motor bike. She was wearing a suit of shiny red leather bike gear.

Fancy a ride, Phil?? She shouted out as if she was expecting me all the time. My sudden turning up was as if well-planned by her and someone else.

Yeah, let's go for a ride.? I had never ridden on a power motor bike like that before. She led me into the hall. She was wearing the single gear, and on the wall, there hang a double gear, also red and shining leather. She took off her gear. She was in her golden under wear, just a mini-pant and a top, of golden silk. She looked very nice. Following her, I stripped to my under-pant and T-shirt. She smiled at me, the warmth of which mattered most to me. We got into the double gear together. It was a funny suit. There was nothing between us. I could feel her warmth and softness instantly, as well as her fragrance. I was ready for the ride of my life.

She gave me a few instructions and told me to hold onto her tightly, for the sake of our lives. Off we went, in a big roar of the powerful engine. This motor must be a monster. It sped so quickly that I felt like taking in a plane. I just held onto her as tightly as possible, for fear and comfort. The first few bends gave me a fright, and she felt it from my grips. I could hear she was laughing. The longer we went, the more I was enjoying the ride. I went back to my childhood, when I held onto my grandpa on his back or my mother on her back. However, this time we were closer to each other than any other times. I felt uncomfortable and embarrassing for a short while. She was enjoying her ride. I concentrated on my current dilemma of losing that job to lose my embarrassment. We came to a stop, which was a lonely hillside lane overlooking the Cathedral and the castle.

We took off our helmets and took a deep breath of the fresh dawn air. Lincoln was justifiably proud of its Cathedral, which looked glorious from afar in its glowing lights. In the sunrise, the Cathedral was elevated by the orange glow.

‘When we were in India, my husband and I always went for a skin ride, which means we had nothing between ourselves and the motor body suits. There was also this beautiful hilltop spot overlooking a glorious ancient temple. Sunrise was our favourite moment. You felt like being in heaven, with yourselves being angels with wings.?

She gave me a smile and a little wink. Her eyes sparked life. She looked so much like Elizabeth Taylor or maybe just herself. She rolled a cigarette and lit it. She passed it to me. I had given up smoking for ages. Somehow, as if under a spell, I took it with a full breath. It almost choked me. I instantly knew it was no ordinary cigarette. I could remember the smell from the little caf?in Amsterdam, when I first went to Europe by myself on a travel scholarship. That was my first year abroad, and the first substantial prize for my writing. My head went a bit dizzy immediately.

Don't worry, Phil. I am not going to seduce you or anything like that. I have promised myself to be faithful to my deceased husband for as along as I live. I am sorry. It was meant to be a joke. Probably a bad one. I am sorry. So, how did you end up on my driveway in the middle of the night??#060;BR>
She looked concerned. But somehow, I knew she was enjoying her joke. She must be wicked, more than naughty. I felt attracted to her wickedness, even though I feared for the worst. I could not tell her about Omni.com, so I just made up a night-shift job, which paid well. I felt lost by losing that job because that company had gone under. She listened, as if she believed my story. She looked at me, as if she sympathised with my case and she knew the solution.

Would you like to work for me? I will pay you from tonight. I will match your previous pay, and you could come to work the same hours. She seemed to understand my situation very well. Because that job at Omni.com was supposed to be meaningful, interesting and well-paid, which seemed to fit with all the necessary criteria for societal judgement of a proper job for a well-educated man like me. She seemed to be suggesting that I should pretend that business was as usual. Was she somehow encouraging me to lie rather than to tell the truth, which would take some explaining? Somehow, she was too good a boss to be refused. As long as I could bring home the money, I would handle it. So I believed myself.

Updates on 14th January:

On the way back to her house, she overtook a few supermarket lorries, which was pretty scary. I just held on tight for my life. That way, we seemed to have bonded with each other very closely. She seemed to have exhausted herself and ready for her beauty sleep. She said Goodbye to me on the doorway and disappeared into her house. I drove back home, thinking at least I had salvaged another job. I wondered what I was getting into this time. It was all a bit strange. Perhaps, this was what life was about, full of unknown events and exciting challenges.

I did not tell my wife and kids about the change. For them, it would be the same any way. As long as I brought back the same sort of money, why should they be bothered? It could be an interesting job with some intellectual challenges. So I went to work the next evening, full of optimism. I could not imagine what it would be if I had lost my job.

I arrived at the House a few minutes before 10 o'clock. I always arrived early for work. When I pressed the door bell, she opened the door for me. I went into the sitting room. She sat behind that big black desk. The fire was on in the fireplace. It was warm and comfortable. She was wearing a pair of glasses and a navy blue suit. She looked very smart and quite serious. She signalled me to sit in the chair opposite her.

"Hi, Phil. Let's get down to business. As this is the first night of your work here. There are a number of matters we need to sort out before you can start working for me. Let me introduce the nature of my work first. I am a China-watcher by profession. This means that I keep a close eye on any significant happenings in China, with a view of China as a potential threat to the West in general and Britain in specific." She looked at me with a piercing stare into my eyes, as if to see how I reacted to this. I nodded my head, trying not to show any emotions.

"It is not that I hate China or the Chinese people. It is just the requirement of my job to look at China in that light. I am sure that there are a number of top Chinese intellectuals observing Britain in the same light. My observations and research findings are used by the Government in their foreign policy-making processes, as well as by the media in their coverage of China". She paused and looked at me again. Her green eyes were so cold, as if I was her worst enemy in the world. I was not scared of her. I had never been scared of any living being. One way or the other, I would find ways to deal with them, particularly as far as the male population was concerned. But women, they remained a mystery to me. But I was never afraid of them. I just did not know how to handle them properly.

"That is the formal part of my job. I also write extensively on China. I wrote a book on Mao, which you may want to read. Apart from proof-reading my manuscripts as a Chinese person, I would ask you various questions. I need only the truth from you. So you would be put on a lie-detector while answering my questions. Not that I don't trust you. It's part of the job. These will be your main jobs. You will also be asked to do other tasks when such requirements arise." She said it with the air of a scientist putting a needle through a guinea pig. She was dead serious about this job, it seemed. I nodded my head with all the seriousness on my face. Suddenly, she burst into a melody of laughters.

"Phil, you are not going to kill me, are you? Your eyes look so similar to those of the Chinese soldiers fighting in the Korean war. I have seen those time and again in the news clips. I am a bit scared of you, Phil." She laughed with her head hanging backwards. I chuckled just to show that I was with her sense of humour.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I used to be trained as a civilian soldier when I was young. It was the seriousness of your tone, which affected me." I hastily apologised, not wanting to lose this job. She collected herself, and pushed a few contractual forms for me to read and sign. I read them in a hurry and quickly put the pen to the paper. It was about confidentiality and all the rest, very similar to those of Omni.com. Pretty standard stuff, I guessed. She was looking at me, smiling patronisingly as if I was her mouse under experiment. But I had no choice except taking this job. I was sure that I could handle the challenge. In any case, I had nothing to hide or lie about anyway. My life had been pretty normal, since I had stayed within the boundaries of law, order and morality to the best knowledge of myself. I will just wait and see what happened next.

"Ok, Phil, welcome on board. I will leave you to the proof-reading for now. I need to go out for a few hours. I am a night animal, as they say. Behave yourself, don't roam too far in the house, as there are many security traps all over the place. They won't kill you, but you will suffer one way or another. Make yourself at home, and there are drinks and snacks in the fridge in the kitchen. Don't get drunk though!" She gave me her wicked wink and went upstairs.

I noticed that that monitoring computer was gone. Perhaps she did not want me to watch her. Well, I was a curious sort of person, though I meant no harm to anybody. I felt more relaxed now that she had left the room. It was a comfortable setting. I wondered where she had gone for her nightly adventure. I sat on the rocking chair by the fireplace and started to read through her manuscript. (to be updated next week.)