

Bucket & Broom

in China

Steve Howrie
Bucket & Broom _in China_. Fiction, humour.

Copyright © Steve Howrie 2016

The right of Steve Howrie to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988. The characters in this book are fictional, and any connection with real people (living or dead), is purely accidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or electronic reviews.

Cover design by Steve Howrie.

*****

About this Book.

This is Simon Broom's fictional blog, relating the adventures of Simon and his side-kick girlfriend Julie Bucket as they experience and learn about life in China, international teaching and each other – as seen through Simon's eyes, ears and everything else!

Many thanks to all the former members of Suzhou Writers and Artists Group for your feedback, encouragement, support and suggestions – without which this book would never have been written. Thanks also to everyone at the Suzhou Bookworm for hosting our group, and for being so thoroughly nice! And thank you to all the other wonderful people I have met and worked with in China. (Do I get my Oscar now?)

Apologies in advance for any bad language from our fictional Julie – unfortunately, that's just how she is. Over to you Simon...

Steve Howrie

Suzhou, China, 2016.

Prologue

My Mum told me that because I was good at school, and had a positive attitude towards life, I should go far. I don't know if China was far enough for her, but that's where my girlfriend Julie and I ended up. It was a journey of discovery, in many ways, and I'd like to share it with you – starting with one day in August when I began to write my amazing blog (Julie told me to say 'amazing'). I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Simon.
August

Saturday 7

Returned home from Portugal. It was a great holiday – except for the nasty rash and the near death experience (when Julie playfully kept my head underwater for five minutes whilst she chatted with one of the waiters). The hotel was comfortable, but we weren't so keen on the cockroaches. Not for dinner anyway.

On the flight back, we were given one of those 'Holiday Feedback' forms. Julie put on the black wig she'd bought in Portimao, and we thought it would be a great laugh to complete the form as follows:

Names: Prince William and Kate Middleton.

Address on holiday: A cave in the mountains of the Algarve.

Opinion of your accommodation: It was a cave, for god's sake!

Opinion of the resort: It was the last resort.

Would you recommend it to anyone: Yes – Mummsie. See how she likes to live without hot water and cable TV for three weeks.

I handed the form back to the stewardess, and we waited for her reaction, expecting guffaws of laughter. Instead, she picked up an intercom and spoke into it very quickly. No doubt sharing the joke with her mates. But no, when we touched down in Manchester, two airport security men whisked us away to a room with no windows and asked us lots of questions. We spent the next two hours trying to convince them that we weren't really the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, had not stayed in a cave, and my mother was not Queen Elizabeth the second. We were released on the condition that we will never, ever impersonate Will or Kate again – and we've been black–listed from any future Royal events.

Sunday 8

It being our last day of freedom before going back to college, Julie and I went to play golf at the local course. When we arrived at the first tee, a familiar–looking bloke asked us if we fancied a threesome. Julie saw red and hit him over the head with a four iron, shouting 'Pervert' – and stormed off down the fairway. I apologised profusely to the man, whom I now recognised as the Club Captain. I gave him a couple of Kleenex for the blood and ran after Julie. When I explained who he was, and told her this was a common golfing term, she said: "Well, he looked like a pervert, and I didn't fancy him anyway".

After digging up a substantial part of the course and losing twenty–seven golf balls, we went into town for a drink. I needed it. One drink turned into two, three and four and I'm now having difficulty writing this down. Better go to bed – it's back to college tomorrow.

PS: I do love Julie, despite her idiosin... idiosync... strangeness.

Monday 9

I hate Mondays. For one moment this morning I seriously considered packing it all in and going to work for Richard Branson. He had no educational qualifications, and it didn't do him any harm. Do you have to be a virgin to work for him?

It was the first day of my Food Hygiene Course – and it was very, very scary. I'll never look at food in the same way again. At lunchtime in the canteen, I asked the serving girl to check the core temperature of the burgers on the hot food counter. If it was less than 93 degrees Celsius, there was no way I was going to eat them. She gave me the same look as the security men at the airport. Then she explained that she couldn't check because the girl that does the testing was out for lunch. I told her that I was a Health and Safety Officer (well, I might be one day), and she magically found the probe thermometer.

The temperature of the meat was only 67 degrees. She tried to tell me this was well within the tolerance levels. I told her it was not within my tolerance level, and proceeded to warn all and sundry in the refectory – particularly the sundry – that the food was not safe to eat. I got a bucketful of dirty looks, but I did notice that a lot of people left their food. I went for the salad, which I ate with a supercilious grin.

Back in class, I discovered that the minimum safe temperature is actually 63 degrees. Anyone can make a mistake.

Tuesday 10

Learned more about bacteria today. Did you know that one thousand bacteria can become a million in just one hour forty minutes at room temperature? Found myself itching and scratching far more than usual – to the consternation of my classmates.

Decided to give the canteen a miss for now, and met Julie for a pub lunch. The way she held me underwater on holiday has left me with a very bad impression (a thumb–sized mark near my right ear) and I wanted to make sure she still loves me. I couldn't just come out and ask her, though. Went all round the houses, but did eventually get to the point. "Why wouldn't I love you?" She replied. So that seems okay then – though I still don't know why she exchanged email addresses with the waiter in Portugal.

Had a couple of drinks in the pub – then a couple more. Felt very relaxed during my afternoon seminar on Food Hygiene Law. I didn't even need to take notes! The legislation will all come back to me one day – hopefully.

Wednesday 11

A much better day. Got over my post holiday depression and went to play football for the College in the afternoon. Scored an unbelievable goal straight after half–time. A screamer into the top left–hand corner of the net – the keeper had no chance. Unfortunately, it was our own goalkeeper (I'd forgotten we'd changed ends at half–time). The manager says he might rest me for the next game. At least I'm not dropped.

In the evening, Julie came over and we had sex (she has me booked for every Wednesday and Saturday). Afterwards, we watched a strange Tom Cruise film called Magnolia, where frogs fall from the sky during a thunderstorm, and a swimmer is scooped up by a plane and dropped into a desert in Australia. Julie said that the film summed up her life. Julie is definitely a deeper person than she seems on the surface. I've no idea what she's talking about half the time.

I invited Julie to stay overnight, but she said she had something else to do. What could she possibly have to do at one o'clock in the morning, other than sleep?

Thursday 12

I think Tracy Jones has got a crush on me. I don't think she knows about me and Julie, because she keeps saying things like, "What time do you go to bed, big boy?" And "It's so hot in here, doesn't it make you want to take all your clothes off and run around naked?" I really should tell her that I'm spoken for – but I must admit I like the attention. It is a bit embarrassing hearing this during lectures though.

At the lunch break, I met up with Julie again. I wanted to tell her about Tracy – thinking it would give her a laugh. But then I remembered the holiday survey and decided to keep quiet. Julie told me she'd started learning Portuguese (presumably for our next holiday together) and reeled off a string of foreign sounding words. I recognised Bom dia, Por favor and Jose Mourinho, but struggled with Eu te amo, and Posso eu ter o sexo com você? Julie told me they were just items on a restaurant menu.

I asked her if she was free that night, but I'd forgotten about her kickboxing classes. She's quite a girl, and I'm very lucky to have her (on Wednesdays and Saturdays).

Friday 13

Whilst I hate Mondays, I really do like Fridays – it's my second favourite day after Saturdays. Or is that before Saturdays? Our lecturer, Dr Samms, has promised us a visit to a scientific laboratory next week. It's a place where they test food for harmful bacteria and viruses. Lunch will be provided.

"I quite like the idea of teaching," I told Dr Samms today. "Could you give me any tips?"

"Yes – stay out of schools, colleges and universities," he said. He's got quite a sense of humour has Dr Samms – and he said it with such a straight face!

Really wanted to see Julie tonight, but will have to wait another twenty–four hours. Instead I phoned home and spoke to dad. "How's things?" I asked. "Your mother's run off with the dentist, we had a fire in the garage, and your fourteen–year–old sister's pregnant." I laughed out loud and said, "You're a scream, dad – can I speak to mum?"

"I told you, she's run off with the dentist – and we had a fire in the garage and Tara's pregnant. What's so funny about that?" I said I was really sorry and would come home as soon as I could.

Not long after I'd come off the phone with dad, the doorbell rang. It was Julie! She said she'd come round to tell me she can't see me tomorrow – she's going away to Portugal for a while. I said, "What about your studies?" She said Paulo (her waiter friend) has got her a job in a hotel in Portimao – and she was very much in love. "I love you too, babe," I said – completely missing the point.

Saturdays are definitely better than Fridays. I think I'll give Tracy Jones a call tomorrow.

Saturday 14

Tracy Jones is very 'interesting'. I asked her if she'd like to go out for a drink, and she said she was tied up just now. I said (jokingly), "I'm good at undoing knots," and she replied, "Who wants to get untied?"

Phoned Dad to ask about the state of the garage after the fire. "It's an abortion," he said flatly. "I'm sorry," I said, "what's the damage?"

"Oh, it's free – National Health Service."

"For a garage?"

"No, I'm talking about Tara's pregnancy – to hell with the garage."

"You must miss Mum," I said sympathetically. The way he broke down in tears on the phone seemed to confirm this. "Well at least you won't need to pay her dental bills any more, Dad," I said.

Sunday 15

I miss Julie SO much. No girlfriend, no job, no hope. Read my horoscope in the Sunday paper – it said: 'With Jupiter in your sign, this is not a good month for you. You're a loser. But you never know what's around the corner.' Does anyone really believe this rubbish?

Monday 16

Received a phone call from Eunice at the job agency. "Sorry, no suitable jobs at the moment in Food Safety," she said, "but how about a job in China?" I told her that pottery wasn't really my thing – then realised she meant the country! Didn't know what to say, other than "CHINA?"

"That's right," she said, "Shanghai." Yes, yes, yes! I slammed the phone down in complete euphoria. China – who would have thought it! Then realised I'd no idea what the job was. Phoned Eunice back and found out it was working in an International School – teaching English to top–level Chinese students. And there's a job for Julie too.

"Wow, they must be really desperate to want us!" I joked with Eunice.

"Yes," she said, "they really are."

Phoned Julie right away. She's still in Portugal of course, so I reversed the charges. "I've got a new job. How would you like to go to Shanghai with your wonderful boyfriend?"

She wasn't sure who I was talking about for a minute; then realised it was me and said, "Why would I want to go there? It's full of midges, it's always cold and wet, and I don't like whisky." Apparently she thought Shanghai was in the Scottish Highlands. When I told her where it really was, she said, "Oh, all right – but I've nothing to wear." I tried to explain that this was a life choice, not a dinner date, but she couldn't quite get it. I think I'll have to change her medication.

Tuesday 17

When Eunice asked me if I wanted the job, I thought I'd got it. But no – I have to be interviewed. Apparently a Chinese professor will phone me tomorrow from Shanghai.

Wednesday 18

Had my interview today with Dr Jessica Wang, the school's Principal. Seemed to go pretty well. The beginning and end were good – not sure about the middle part though. Thought I'd be really clever and use a bit of Chinese (the girl at my local take–away told me how to say hello and goodbye).

"Knee–how," I said.

"Oh, you speak Chinese! That will make things much easier. Women zai zhao pin Shanghai xuexiao de ying yu laoshi..."

I didn't want to fluff the interview by admitting that I couldn't understand a word she was saying (except Shanghai), so I just kept saying 'okay'. The last thing she said was "Zai jian." So I said the same, and that was that.

Thursday 19

Eunice phoned to say I've got the job! So learning a bit of the local lingo really paid off. Couldn't wait to tell Julie. She's due back in England today.

Met Julie at the airport. She looked radiant – great tan. And she had a couple of tattoos on her arm – one of which read: 'I love Paulo'. I thought at first this was the name of the waiter she knew in Portimao, but she insisted it was the name of a Portuguese beer. I'll have to try it. She said the tattoos were temporary, and would wash off... eventually.

Julie was thrilled at the news of the China job – but she seems to have no idea of distance. "Can we commute to Shanghai?" she asked.

"What, from England... every day?" I said.

"Yeah."

Friday 20

Booked our airline tickets today. Julie asked if we could fly with Virgin Airlines – said she really likes Richard Branson. I said I liked him too, but Richard doesn't actually work on the planes. She was disappointed, but we booked the flights anyway. So we're off next week – hurrah!

Saturday 21

A bit of a hitch today. Julie said, "Don't forget your passport!" My heart sank to Australia: only two days left on mine – HELP! Fortunately, there is an emergency Fast Track way to renew your passport. Unfortunately, it costs an arm and a leg. If it was someone else's arm and leg, I wouldn't mind, but it would probably be mine. "May wenty," I said. That's more Chinese I've picked up – I'm almost fluent now. No idea what it means though.

Julie and I are throwing a going–away party for some friends tonight. Looking forward to that.

Sunday 22

Urghhhh! I'll never drink again.

Big celebration last night. Invited all my friends (Tony and Chris) and danced to seventies and eighties music, whilst consuming an obscene amount of alcohol. Julie was very funny. Invited all her closest friends, so she said, but she didn't even know their names! And they were all male. (Except for the one with the pink wig, whom no–one was really sure about.)

Monday 23

Started packing today. Julie suggested I take my golf bag. "Why?" I asked. "They've probably never even heard of golf over there." Y'know, Julie does seem a couple of marbles short of a full set sometimes, but boy can she be smart.

"We don't put golf clubs in the bag, Simon, we put clothes in. Do the maths...ten pounds per kilo for excess baggage adds up to three hundred bloody quid for thirty kilos. But sports bags only cost fifteen pounds for thirty–two kilos." She's a genius; but I have to say I was a bit miffed when she put all her clothes into the golf bag, and none of mine.

Phoned mum to tell her we were all packed. "Where are you going?" she asked. Christ, knew I'd forgotten to tell someone! She took it well though – but only because I told her we would be commuting every day. She's still with her dentist friend.

Tuesday 24

Got my new passport today! Nothing's stopping us now.

Wednesday 25

Another little problem: no visa. Not even Julie knew this one. "Couldn't we buy one on the plane?" she asked. "Richard could help us." What can I do with her? Got to go to the Chinese Embassy to get a tourist visa. Well, we still have a few days before the flight – we can pick up the visas tomorrow.

Thursday 26

Life's a bitch, and then we fly.

Friday 27

Finally got the visas today. Everything's done now – tomorrow we're off!

Saturday 28

Well, we would have flown if someone had got the date right. No names, but it wasn't me, and Julie's looking very guilty. Decided to get out a bunch of DVDs to pass the time, and watched 'Crash Landing', 'Mayday!', 'A Wing and a Prayer', and 'Panic in the Skies'. Thought these would put us in the right mood for the flight. Afterwards, Julie asked me to check our insurance.

Sunday 29

Arrived at the airport – just in time. We were last ones to check–in, but Julie says that's always best because you get your luggage first when you get off the plane. Sort of last on, first out. Said it worked for her every time.

Boarded the 737 Airbus and Julie selflessly gave me the window seat. She's good like that. She said that if she could see how high we were off the ground, she'd probably jump out of the plane. Interesting. After five hours she began to realize that travelling to Shanghai every day was not on. "Perhaps we could just come home at weekends?" she said.

After flying for thirteen hours, she gave up saying 'Are we there yet?' We landed in Singapore airport and everyone had to get off the plane so the security guards could search for dangerous and illegal substances – such as chewing gum. Fabulous airport, including a roof–top tropical bar. Took me twenty minutes to find Julie in there. Eventually caught up with her in between a coconut palm and a man from Liberia. She'd had a few. Said she'd 'done a bit of business' with this guy. Business?

Finally got back on the plane and found a man sitting in Julie's seat. She wasn't too pleased, to say the least. "What're you doing in my fucking seat?" That's my Julie – knows how to bring out the best in people.

"Sorry," he said, "I was just wondering if we could swap seats?" He was wrapped around a tasty–looking Filipina, which I took to be the reason he wanted Julie's seat. "Look", she rasped, pointing at me, "this is my boyfriend. He's not handsome, but I love him, and we're going to start a new life together in China. Why the hell would I want to leave him in a plane full of dodgy foreigners and move to another seat – just so you can get your leg around Miss Manila?" He seemed to be in shock. "And where were you sitting anyway?" she added.

He lifted a shaky finger. "Up there – in First Class."

Talk about loyalty. Julie was off faster than Concorde, leaving me to spend the next five hours sitting next to the smooching twosome. Got a little sleep on the plane, in between the panting and heavy breathing (them, not me). Had a strange dream about Julie and the man from Liberia. Then the stewardess announced we were beginning our decent to Shanghai. Shanghai, China! We were nearly there.

Couldn't see Julie after I left the plane, so just followed the crowd to the baggage reclaim area. Very surprised by the temperature – thought it was supposed to be really hot in August, but this was very comfortable indeed – cool even. Found Julie talking to a well–dressed geezer waiting for our luggage. She's a very social animal is our Julie. Finally, after collecting the right luggage (well, the other case looked like Julie's), we were out of the airport and into the heat. Wow! It was like an oven. Wonder why the airport was so cool? A young woman ahead of us was frantically waving a sign reading: 'SIC'. Well, yes, I was feeling a bit like that. Julie pointed out that this was Shanghai International College – our new school – not a question about our health. Yeah, I knew that.

The girl holding up the sign was called Google. I thought of saying I'd like to look her up sometime, but restrained myself. The journey from the airport to our hotel took nearly an hour–and–a–half. Whoa, this is a big city – and everything looked so... so... modern! Decided to try out the Chinese I'd learnt on the plane from my book ('Chinese for absolute, rock–bottom beginners'). "Knee–how Google, hun–gow shing run sher–knee." Google look puzzled.

"What language is that?" she asked.

"Perhaps she's not Chinese?" Julie whispered to me. Maybe not.

Very tired when we arrived at the hotel – really knackered. Couldn't wait to drop into a nice soft bed and sleep forever... getting sooooo tired...

Monday 30

Last night, someone in the hotel played a trick on us and put what felt like bricks in the mattress! It seemed very funny at first. The manager even told us with a straight face that this was a normal bed. Ha ha ha! Phoned Google to share the joke. She said that's how beds are in China – and it's good for your back. Julie ended up sleeping on the wooden floor, saying it felt softer. In the morning, the hotel staff still had straight faces, and we had straight backs.

Today we both had our health checks at a downtown hospital. Bit like an MOT test for Human Beings. Seemed to test just about everything – blood pressure, heart–rate, breathing, hearing, hands and feet. Then I was taken into a small room, occupied by a strange–looking doctor with a worrying smile. He asked me to close the door and drop my trousers – then my underpants. Then he put on rubber gloves and asked me to turn around and bend over. The next thing I know I had a finger up my bum! I was out of there like a shot. Despite that, I passed the test and got my MOB – Ministry of Bodies – certificate. (I made that up by the way – there is no MOB in China. But I think there's one in Italy...)

Thank goodness for Google, that's all I can say. Julie and I had to open local bank accounts in the afternoon, and we couldn't read or understand a word at the bank, or know which forms to fill in (it seems that Google is Chinese after all). Now we've both got little green debit cards to access our new money.

"How much can I withdraw with this card if I use it now?" I asked Google.

"Not much," she said.

"One thousand yuan?" I ventured.

"No, not that much."

"Five hundred?"

"Too much."

"One hundred then?"

"Less."

"Fifty yuan?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, ten yuan?"

"No, nothing – you have to put money in your account first."

She's such a scream.

Tomorrow we meet the other teachers!

Tuesday 31

It was an interesting day. Julie got on very well with some of the young male staff, in particular a Business Studies teacher called Graham from Canada. It's nice to see her making new friends. Apparently he knows how to make some quick money in China. Interesting. He even took Julie away to explain how it works. (I think they went to the photocopy room.) I talked to some of the other new teachers, including a big Arsenal football fan called Ron who's teaching Biology. I mean, he was big – six foot five and over three hundred pounds. Yes, all types of people with many different interests. I even found a few people who said they were interested in Pedagogy, whatever that is (something to do with feet, I think). It's a pity I couldn't find anyone interested in the study of Education.

I had a talk with a Scot called Hamish who said he'd also be teaching English. At least, I think that's what he said – it was very difficult to understand him. He has a great accent, though, really funny, and the kids will love him. And it'll be interesting to see if they can guess what planet he's from.

Then there was Sheila from Australia. She'd been teaching at an International school in Dubai, but got chucked out of the country after she was caught drinking alcohol. "Yes," I said, "the Arabs are really strict about booze over there." But apparently it was the British head–teacher who sacked her when he saw her drinking in the classroom. I think sharing the alcohol with her year nines was the nail in her coffin. In her defence, she is a Chemistry teacher and she said she was just conducting an experiment at the time.

I got on quite well at with a guy called Klaus, who said he was from Germany. "Hanover," he added.

"Yes, I had one this morning myself," I admitted. "I think it must have been the wine last night." Klaus said he'll be teaching Physics this year.

"Well, that's a whole lot better than teaching maths!" I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, maths is so boring!"

"Really?"

"Yes – and d'you know why?" I said.

"Please tell me."

"Maths teachers are so boring!"

"I'm a maths teacher too," he said.

QED.

Tomorrow is our first teaching day – and a new month!

* * *
September

Wednesday 1

What a great day! The students were fantastic. I taught three forty–minute periods, and in each one the students actually sat at their desks, listened to me – and worked! Incredible. No–one was stabbed, punched, mentally tormented or had his property destroyed. No–one told me to fuck off, tried to strangle me with my tie, or threatened to call his lawyer if I touched him. So different from my old school in the UK (which has since been converted into an army barracks).

Julie said it was the same with her students. "Maybe because it's our first day?" I suggested. But no; Clive Morris, head of English, said that students actually respect teachers and value their education over here. We've gone to educational heaven.

Thursday 2

Clive gave me a copy of the IGCSE syllabus today. He did seem a little concerned when I asked him to remind us what 'IGCSE' stood for, so I said "Just kidding!" and that made him happy. I asked Julie, but she'd forgotten as well. We guessed that the 'I' was for Individual, 'G' for Great, 'C' for Choice and 'E' for Experience. 'S' then could be Student. So, the Individual Great Choice Student Experience. We weren't one hundred percentage sold on 'Great' though – or 'Choice', and thought that maybe 'Individual' was wrong. Julie later remembered it was the International General Certificate of Secondary Education. (We weren't far out.)

Met Klaus at lunch, and apologised for what I said about Maths teachers. "It's okay, it's probably true," he said.

"Tell me what you think about English teachers," I said playfully. His mouth turned into a smile, which turned into a laugh, which turned into a roar. "Thanks for your feedback," I said.

Promised Julie I'd take her out for a meal after school tomorrow to celebrate our first week in Shanghai.

Friday 3

Shanghai is so big! Ron (the Arsenal fan) recommended we go to 'Shin–tee–an–dee' for a meal (at least, that's how it sounded). Because of the traffic, it took us over an hour to get there in a cab – poor taxi–driver! Taxis are so cheap here, so decided to give him a decent tip; but he gave it back to me. So I pushed it into his hands, and he pushed it back into mine. So I stuffed the money in his pocket, but he took it out and gave it back. At first he was smiling, but that soon wore off. This is ridiculous, I thought. So I just threw the money on the floor and Julie and I left the cab. But he got out of the car and ran after us shouting "bu yao, bu yao!" When he caught up with us, he shoved the notes into Julie's hand. Not a good idea. "Just take the fucking money!" she shouted, stuffing the cash down his trousers. Everyone stopped to see the crazy foreigners.

This did rather taint our celebratory meal somewhat.

"Do you think we over–reacted?" I asked Julie.

"D'yer think?" she said.

Anyway, the restaurant was nice. We'd both been missing traditional British food these last few days, so we went for the chicken tikka masala. Splashed out on the wine, and felt better. Got the bill, and I said to Julie, "How much shall we ti...."

"Don't even think about it," she said.

Saturday 4

Having stayed in a hotel for the last few days, it was good to finally move into our own apartment. Google helped us find a nice place near the school. "Look, it's even got a children's room," she observed.

"Yes, but we haven't got any children!" I pointed out.

"No... not yet," Julie added. Does she know something I don't?

Sunday 5

Last night we made love in our new bed, in our new apartment, in our new city, in our new country, in our new life. Bliss! At least, I thought so. But Julie said, "Babe, I need more..."

"Maybe you need more than one man," I jested.

"I'll think about it," she said turning over. I hope she knows I'm joking.

Back to work tomorrow.

Monday 6

Interesting day at school: Clive Morris (Head of English) suggested we teachers observe each others' lessons, as part of our in–service professional development. "Great idea!" I said. So Clive and Julie came to one of my lessons in the morning. Afterwards, Clive had a sort of glassy–eyed, wondrous look about him. At lunch, I asked him for his impressions.

"It was, er, interesting... er, very, er, informative. Unusual, actually. I've never seen a lesson quite like it."

"Thank you," I said, "thank you very much."

Julie said, "Look, I could be completely wrong about this, but shouldn't you be teaching the kids, and not them teaching you?" She's too old fashioned.

"This is the new way, the new order," I explained. "You have to open your mind."

"Well, from where did you get this 'new–fancy–order thing', Plato?"

"Yes, where?" Clive eagerly chipped in. "Was it from your teacher training college?"

"What, Hounslow Uni?" I said, "Nah, no way – that was a complete waste of time. No, I got the idea from reading Sherlock Holmes books."

There was silence. Then Julie spluttered,

"I've got it!"

"You have?" Clive said.

"Yes! Brilliant! We essentially learn in four ways: by listening, by watching, by doing, and..."

"By teaching!" Clive added triumphantly.

Then Julie said, "So when we thought we saw twenty–five students showing you how to write a paragraph correctly on the board – because you'd made more than seventeen grammatical errors – what we actually saw was a student–centred learning experience where you facilitated their educational needs through motivational, transformational–type, incompetence."

"Got it in one," I said.

Tuesday 7

Late last night in bed, Julie rolled over, faced me and said, "Got you out of that hole today, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did pet. Owe you one."

Wednesday 8

I feel a new me is developing here in China. In England, I was a nobody who could do nothing. Here, I'm a nobody who can make a difference.

I must say, even though we've only been here just over a week, I do miss the odd game of footie. So when big Ron asked me if I'd like to play football with him and some other teachers after school, I jumped at the chance.

"Where d'you play?" asked Ron.

"On the pitch," I said.

"I mean, position?"

"Oh, er, backward midfielder." Ron gave me a strange look.

"Okay, you're in goal then," he said.

I told the lads about the screamer I scored back in England when playing for our college. Didn't tell them it was in the wrong direction – but they put me in goal anyway. Being a goalkeeper must be the loneliest position in any team. No–one to talk to, and all you seem to do is pick the ball out of the back of the net. Eventually, they took pity on me and someone else stood between the sticks, giving me free rein to show what I could do on the field. They were impressed. Clive said I had a hidden talent; Klaus said he'd never seen such a skill (and he'd played in a decent amateur league in Hanover); and Ron just said, "Why?"

It was my dad who first taught me the skill of tucking the ball under my calf and upper thigh and hopping towards goal, with the ball securely locked in position under my bum. Very difficult to tackle me without incurring a foul. Invariably, I was able to hop pretty much the length of the pitch and score. Or I'd be brought down by their goalie, and that's a penalty, thank you very much. Referees had no idea what to do either, and had to allow a goal.

Eventually, everyone seemed to get bored for some reason and left the game, leaving Klaus and me to play England against Germany. He won on penalties.

Thursday 9

Dr Wang announced this morning that all the new teachers were invited for a dinner this evening after school. I was going to say, 'Duo shao qian', to show off my Chinese, but suddenly forgot what it meant. Sheila (Chemistry) asked if there would be a bar. "Oh, not for me," she added quickly. "I was just thinking that the others might fancy a drink... or two." Someone asked what we should wear, and Dr Wang said, "Normal working dress."

Big Ron wore his Arsenal shirt, which was in fact normal working dress for him. Julie came dressed to kill (I don't know who), with a short leopard–skin skirt, black tights, knee–length black boots, and revealing gold silk blouse – all of which she was indeed teaching in today. The dinner was in a five–star hotel downtown with wall–to–wall chandeliers. If they wanted to impress us, it worked. The meal was an all–you–can–eat buffet style. Sheila asked if this included drinks.

"Yes, I believe it does include soft drinks," said Dr Wang.

"What about gin?" Sheila asked, almost desperately. Dr Wang gave a nervous laugh and moved away quickly.

Julie seemed to be getting on well with Graham, the Canadian Business teacher, so I talked to Klaus about the last war. Probably not the best of subjects. Fortunately, Sheila came over just before I started World War Three.

"So, what are two handsome young men doing in this neck of the woods?" she said, knocking back a gin–and–something.

"Well, I'm talking to a very attractive and sexy–looking human being," I said looking up at her.

"Why, thank you kind sir!" she drooled.

"Actually, I meant Klaus." She creased up laughing, but not long enough for me to escape. Fortunately, Julie came back in time to save me from alcohol vapour poisoning.

"I'm tired, babe – can we go home?" she moaned.

And so we did.

Friday 10

Had a strange dream last night. I was in a submarine with all the new teachers. I looked out of the window and saw Julie swimming like a fish! Then a big net came down and lifted her out of the water. Meanwhile, Sheila was making love to Clive in the engine room.

Decided to keep away from gin – even if someone else is drinking it.

Saturday 11

The weekend! Julie and I decided to explore Shanghai. "What about Sea–World?" she said.

"What about it?" I replied.

"We could go and see the fish, and dolphins and stuff. Don't you like fish?" Well, of course I like fish – particularly when they're deep fried with chips. Actually, it was a cool place, I have to admit. Julie kept saying, "Oh, aren't they sweet! Can we have one Simon?" But that changed to, "Oh shit, look at that!" when she saw the sharks. Then I saw something equally frightening.

"Hey, he looks familiar," I said to Julie.

"Which one?" she asked.

"The balding fella on the right."

"Does he have eight legs?" she asked.

I turned to see her peering into the Octopus tank. "No, I mean the man over there – isn't that Clive Morris?"

"Oh, yeah – that's him." Suddenly a woman came into view, and took Clive's arm. It was Sheila!

"Hide!" I gasped. No idea why, but we wanted to get lost in the crowd so that Clive and Sheila couldn't see us. "I thought Clive was married?" I whispered to Julie.

"He is," she said.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"I've seen the way he looks at me," she replied. What was she saying?

"Does every married guy you've ever met want to try it on?"

"Yeah, pretty much," she said, popping a fresh piece of gum into her mouth.

Sunday 12

Phoned Mum to see how she was. She said she couldn't talk because Donald (the Dentist she's living with) was cleaning her crown. "Oh, sorry your majesty!" I joked. She didn't get it. She said she'd had a bit of flu, but she was feeling better than tomorrow. (She's such a pessimist.)

Then I phoned dad, and discovered he's got a new girlfriend! "What's she like?" I asked. "Oh the usual things – chocolate, sex, women's magazines..."

"No, dad – I mean..."

With parents like this, I sometimes wonder how I turned out to be so normal.

Went to Starbucks with Julie in the evening for a coffee – yes, Starbucks in Shanghai! Thought it was time to have a serious talk with the love of my life (that's Julie, by the way).

"Jules, I feel I've something inside me that I've got to get out"

"Oh pet, I know exactly what you mean." She delved into her handbag. "Here, try these – they're magic." She gave me some Chinese traditional medicine from her students. "That'll sort you out," she said.

"No no, it's not that... I think I was born for something bigger... there's something very important I've got to do with my life, and I need to share this with you." She was suddenly very attentive. She even took the gum out of her mouth (I think that's the first time I've seen her do that).

"Oh, Simon! Yes, yes, yes! But shouldn't you be down on one knee?"

Eventually, though, we did get on the same wavelength, and Julie had a surprise for me: she told me she was going to join the Shanghai Writers Club! (And I thought she was still learning to read. You never know what lies beneath that crazy persona.) I said I'd go with her and provide a bit of support (she does get a bit wobbly on her legs after a couple of drinks).

Monday 13

School was a bit of a blur today. I'm having a mid–life crisis twenty years too early. One of my students asked if I was all right. I said, "No, actually I'm half left." Spent the rest of the lesson trying to explain British humour. Concluded that it's best not to. Off to the Shanghai Writers' Club with Julie!

Tuesday 14

Interesting group of people at the Writers' meeting last night. I couldn't understand half of what they were saying, but I did get the bit about ordering wine. One woman said nervously, "I've never been read before." "Oh," Julie replied, "what colour have you been?" That's my girl. When it was Julie's turn to read her stuff, I was in for a surprise: she'd written a story all about me! "My Boyfriend, by J.K. Rowling," she started. Jaws dropped – including mine. Was my girlfriend really the author of all those Harry Potter novels? Then is dawned on me: it was a pseudonym. (I learned that word from my students last week.) Julie said she thought the name might help to sell her work. She may have a point. Anyway, it was more of a poem than a story, and it started like this:

My Boyfriend, by J.K. Rowling.

My boyfriend isn't so bright,

In fact he's a pretty horrible sight.

But on a cloudy night, or a rainy day,

I love him anyway.

We've living together like sister and brother,

Without my old man,

And without his old mother.

And one day he'll say:

'Julie, be mine';

And I'll say, okay that's fine.

There was silence. Then one woman said: "I think I can see where you're going with that." That made Julie very happy: she'd no idea where she was going with it.

Wednesday 15

Couldn't sleep last night. Had a dream about being married to Julie, and woke up in a cold sweat. Sat looking at her for about an hour wondering what it would be like. Then I woke up again! I'd dreamt that I'd woken up and looked at Julie, but actually I was still asleep. Must keep off that Korean wine. Made me think though: is it time to say those two little words that can change your life? Mmm... I can't remember what they are now. I suppose there's lots of 'two little words' that can change your life: 'You're fired', 'She's gay', 'You're broke', 'I'm pregnant'. Ah, remembered what it was now: 'Marry me'. A shiver just went down my spine.

Couldn't stop thinking about Julie's poem all day – particularly the bit about 'living together like sister and brother'. Decided to talk to her about it that evening.

"What do you think of Incest?" I asked.

"Not bad – quite good to relax to. It can get a bit heavy though." Apparently, she thought I was talking about a British Indie rock band. Decided to leave it at that for now.

Thursday 16

Interesting day at school. Started a discussion on marriage with my top English group. Learnt quite a lot from them (or should that be learned?) Apparently, it costs just five yuan to get married in China, and nine yuan to get divorced. So you could have a different wife every month of the year, and it would cost you less than twenty quid! Don't think I'll propose to Julie just yet.

Friday 17

Still thinking about marriage in China. Apparently, after you get your licence you could wait up to a year before doing the 'proper' ceremony, with the dress, flowers, meal, party, drink, speeches, etc, etc. And then you usually have two weddings – one in your town, and one in hers. Christ! But, of course, you don't have to do all that – you can just pay your five kwai and live happily ever after. Or not. (Kwai = another name for yuan, like saying quid for pounds.)

Wanted to talk about this at our weekly 'Happy Hour' at school. This is the term for free drinks and snacks in the Coffee Bar after school every Friday. Everyone was there – Dr Wang, Sheila, Big Ron, Klaus, Graham, Clive, Hamish, Google, and all the local Chinese staff. Went to have a chat with Hamish first. "So, how's it going with your English teaching Hamish?" Couldn't understand a word. "HOW IS ENGLISH TEACHING – GOOD?" No, nothing. His lips moved, but the sounds were not from any universe I knew of. I nodded politely, and went to talk to Google and the admin girls. "So, ladies, a question for you: what's the most important reason for getting married? (a) money; (b) sex; (c) to please your family; or (d) all the prezzies you can get? They looked puzzled.

"What about Love?" one asked. I hadn't thought of that.

Saturday 18

Toni, one of the guys from the Writers' group, phoned me up, and we got chatting. He asked what I did for a living and I said "English teacher."

"ESL?" he asked.

"No, Shanghai International College," I replied. Silence. Then he asked to speak to Julie. Later Julie told me that ESL was 'English as a Second Language'. Yeah, I knew that. It's also London School of Economics (spelled backwards).

Later that night in bed with Julie (it was Saturday), she told me that Toni was a painter. "Great," I said, "perhaps he could touch up my bike for me." Apparently she meant that he's an artist, and he'd like to paint her tomorrow. Good, I thought, she was looking a bit pasty.

Sunday 19

Julie came back from Toni's looking bright and giggly. It's nice to see her happy. But then I looked at her old clothes. "I hope he didn't paint you in those," I said in my most disapproving voice. "No, 'course not," she said, "I took them all off." Now that's a relief.

Monday 20

Teaching is such an easy profession. Get the textbook, read it to your students, and bingo. Dr Wang came to observe one of my lessons today (part of my professional development) and after some head shaking and plenty of tut–tutting, she told me there is definitely room for improvement. "Yes," I agreed, "I'll tell them that tomorrow."

Julie's started doing some private English tutoring on the side to earn a bit more cash. She really is a people person is our Julie, and loves the one–to–one learning environment. She's also got such a practical approach to learning English too. She often takes her students shopping, or goes to restaurants and hotels with them – just so that they can practise their English in real life situations. Brilliant.

Tuesday 21

Dr Wang must have really enjoyed my lesson yesterday because she came back again to see another! She seemed to make a lot of notes, and then said we needed to talk in her office, where she had something for me – a letter!

My students are so nice! They'd written to Dr Wang all about me. Dr Wang handed it over, with plenty of that head–shaking she does so well. The letter said:

'Dear Dr Wang,

We know Simon is not good teacher. He only reads from textbook. Sometimes this is wrong textbook, and sometimes he does not understand his own reading. And his spelling is badder than ours. We respectfully suggest we self–study instead of learn from Simon. But please do not burn him. He is so funny, and tells us lots of joke. And we are learning so much about British youth culture, and the drug scene. Class G3.'

Dr Wang then said she had a new job for me – in the Guidance Office. I have to prepare the students for life abroad and help them apply to universities. So it looks like I've been promoted! Only, I won't get quite so much money, and I can only work part–time.

Wednesday 22

Last night Julie told me she'd become a Pescetarian.

"I thought you liked being British?" I said.

"You can be both," she replied. A sort of dual nationality, then? Apparently not. A pesky–whatsit is someone who eats fish, but not meat.

"Hey, I like fish – can I be one too?" I asked.

"No," she said, in the sort of voice that means No, you stupid idiot. "You have to give up meat first". Does a Big Mac count as meat? I wondered. Apparently, Julie got the fish/no meat idea from Toni. "Has he given you anything else?" I asked. "Not yet," she said smiling, "but he wants to."

That's nice, I thought.

Thursday 23

The first day of my new job at school! I was introduced to Nigel, who manages the Guidance Office. A really nice bloke who is dead easy to get on with... and he's gay, according to Sammy (one of the Chinese admin girls). Yes, Nigel has a boyfriend in downtown Shanghai – or "Shaghai", as Sammy says he calls it. Sammy said this is really a secret and I mustn't tell anyone. I'm sure I could tell Julie though – she's very discreet. And not many people will read my Blog.

My job in Guidance is to interview students, find out what they want to study at University, and help them to write their personal statements. Today I talked to Miss Shoe–jar–way. (Don't know how to spell it, but that's how it sounds.) She said she wants to become an Actuary, and her parents told her she must study Finance and Accountancy at Uni. Amazing – would you believe it! Fortunately, I was there to point her in the right direction. "No, to be an Actuary you really need to study Drama and English," I told her. She seemed a bit puzzled, but I convinced her that this was right.

When Julie came home, she told me that one of her mature students has asked her to go to Beijing with her this weekend and translate for him at a conference – all expenses paid, including the hotel and... everything! This sort of work pays really well, apparently.

Friday 24

Last night, Julie told me that I say 'apparently' an awful lot. It gets on her nerves, apparently.

At work, Nigel didn't seem very happy about my recommendations for Shoe–jar–way. Appar..., it seems that her father is an accountant – and her mother phoned to ask why I was recommending Drama for their daughter. "Do you know what an Actuary actually does?" asked Nigel. "Act?" I ventured tentatively. "Try 'get your act together' – and look it up," he said and walked out. Nigel isn't as nice as I first imagined.

Saturday 25

It's nice that Julie's going away for the weekend, but it does mean we'll miss our night of passion today. Apparently.

Sunday 26

Went to Tesco's last night (yes, a British Tesco in China!) and bought a decent bottle of Australian wine. Couldn't believe the price at first – over a hundred quid a bottle! Went to tell the manager that this was outrageous, then realised everyone was Chinese and they don't speak English. Tried to pay in pounds at the checkout – but they only accept Chinese money. Then realised the price was a hundred and five Yuan (about ten quid)! Opened the bottle at home and had a really good laugh about it – then realised I was on my own. Just realised that I seem to say 'realised' a lot.

Monday 27

Last night Julie came home from her Beijing trip. Asked her what Beijing is like, but she said she never really saw it – spent the whole weekend in the hotel. That's what I like about Julie – she's dedicated to her work. She said we could go there together next holiday... maybe. Feel a bit hung over after the wine last night (maybe drinking the whole bottle wasn't such a good idea).

Tuesday 28

Enjoyed our Writers meeting last night – beginning to get to know people now. There's Anton, who's half–French and seems to run the club, and writes very intellectual stuff that only he can understand (or maybe only I can't understand); Toni, the artist; Maddy, who's writing a book about someone called Sydney; Melissa, who writes really dark, earthy fiction, with lots of references to sex (Julie says she wants to write like Melissa); and then me and Jules. Melissa gave us a short story to read called 'The Last Orgasm'. Wow – powerful stuff! I really didn't know you could do that with ordinary fruit. I think it was very well researched – and I particularly liked the climax. Anton then read out 'Le Soul Wondrous', in which he used words I never knew existed in the English language. Afterwards, Melissa told me it was all in French, but there was a translation on the back. Finally, Toni gave us one of his poems to read, entitled 'Ode to a Carrot'.

Ode to a Carrot, by Toni Carrotti.

Oh now though art long, firm,

And orange!

You help me see in the dark

Guide me in the right direction

And you are

Better than

A stick.

I had to read it several times to know what it was all about. Toni said it's based on a painting he's doing, and his next poem will be about Julie. Interesting...

As we left, Maddy asked me what sort of things I write. I told her that I write to my mum and dad every now and then.

* * *

Miss Shoe–jar–way came back to see me today, and I had some good news for her. "I've found you a degree course in Actuarial Science!"

"Wonderful!" she said, "You're fantastic! What university is it?"

"The U–ni–ver–si–ty of... Kent!" I said, spreading the words out for maximum effect.

"Kent? Isn't that in England?" she asked.

"You bet it is!" I confirmed proudly.

"But I want to go to America – it says that on my CV!"

"America! Why on Earth would you want to go there? It's full of Americans, and we all know what they're like!"

"No, I don't think I do... enlighten me," she said, sitting back in her chair.

"Well, they're brash, egocentric, think of nothing else but making a fast buck, play pathetic sports like 'baseball' and 'basketball', they have no manners, no dignity, and no culture. You really don't know Americans, do you?" I taunted.

"Oh, I know one," she replied leaning forward in her chair, until she was almost in my face, "my FATHER!!"

That would explain her perfect English then.

Wednesday 29

Julie's doing a night shift, and I can't sleep. Keep thinking what a waste of time this all is. Life I mean. We're born, we live, we die. We sleep, we wake, we work. We eat, we crap, we piss. We love, we hate, we love to hate. What's this all about? Where are we going? Why are we going there? Are we there yet? I miss Julie so much.

Thursday 30

Decided to better myself. Can't seem to better anyone else, so this is the next step. I asked Julie if she'd mind if I joined the Writers' Club.

"Oh, babes," she said, "I was hoping you would – you've got so much talent."

"Really? I have?"

"Yeah, I'm sure you have. We just have to find it."

* * *
October

Friday 1

The Chinese National Holiday.

Yes, we have a week away from school!

The way the locals stare at Julie has started to get to her. I did tell her not to put those red and green streaks in her hair, but would she listen? In a country where there's really only one hair–colour (black) she does tend to stand out. She'd started to say, "D'you want a picture?" when people stared at her. They didn't understand, of course, and just stared more. So she asked one of her students to translate this into Chinese. The first time she said, "Ni xiang yao pai zhao ma?" an old woman nodded her head and held out her hand.

People's stares don't bother me – except when I'm in the toilet and they look over to see what I've got.

Saturday 2

Talking about Julie's hair yesterday made her look at mine. "You need a haircut," she said bluntly. "Why?" I asked. "Because you keep tripping over it," she said.

She's such a laugh... I've told her a million times not to exaggerate. Anyway, looked in the mirror this morning and couldn't see my ears. Concluded that they've either dropped off, or Julie's right about the hair–cut.

Sunday 3

I told Julie about my 'what's the point of all of this?' line of thinking. Her reply was, "What's the point of saying 'What's the point?'?" Thought about this for a bit, and then said, "If there's no point in saying, 'What's the point?' then what's the point of saying 'What's the point of saying what's the point?'?"

"Come again?" she said.

"If there's no point..."

"No no... just tell me what it means."

"I've no idea," I said. "But either there's no point to life, in which case it's pointless to say 'What's the point?'; or there is a point to life, in which case I'd like to know what the hell it is."

"Good point," she said, patting me on the nose with her finger (I don't know why she does that). "Let's find out what it is then..."

"...or what it isn't," I added.

Consequently, we spent the rest of the day looking up 'The Purpose of Life' on the Internet. Decided in the end it's probably best not to, and drank a bottle of wine instead.

Monday 4

A student (Yuan Xu) came to see me about his university application early this morning. I asked his English name, and he said it was 'Nineteen'. "No, no – I need your name, not your age," I said. But apparently, this is his name (coinciding with his number on the class register).

"Okay," I started, "Why do you want to go to university – what's the point?" He looked at me strangely for a moment – as if I'd asked him to divide two by zero, then said,

"To get good job, to earn good money, to be respectable citizen."

"I see. But I have to tell you that one of the most successful, most respected and richest men in the whole World didn't go to university. In fact, he left school with no qualifications!"

"Who's that?" he asked, wide–eyed.

"Richard Branson." He looked blank. "Virgin Atlantic Airlines," I added.

"Oh, Lichade Bulanshen! He's my hero!"

No university application needed – sorted.

Tuesday 5

Nigel came to tell me this morning that Nineteen's parents were not at all pleased with what I told their son. In fact they're furious, and threatening to take Nineteen to another school.

"I cannot tell a lie," I said holding up one hand."

"Nor can I," he said. "You're fired."

Went to see Dr Wang in the afternoon to get my final pay and say goodbye – but I was in for a surprise. "Can you teach Maths?" she asked.

"In my sleep!" I said. (I'd taken a maths course in College, and slept through most of it.)

"Okay, that's better than nothing," she sighed.

Eureka! I'm starting tomorrow, teaching Calculus (whatever that is).

Julie was very pleased with my new appointment. She said that Maths teachers are much more attractive than English teachers – or Guidance officers. Amazing! And even though it wasn't Wednesday or Saturday we could stay up all night and make love – whoopee!

Wednesday 6

Oh, Julie's quite a girl when she's in the mood! Don't know how many times we did it last night, but it was great! Only thing was, we drank half a bottle of brandy between us, which probably wasn't such a bright idea before a teaching day. Still, I think my first maths lesson went well. What's great about these Chinese students is they're SO good at maths, and they help me out when I get stuck. Did a bit of history of Calculus – thought it would make them happy to think it was discovered in China. No idea who really thought it up, though one student said she thought it was a German called Leibniz (pronounced Lie–bnits). Told her that she shouldn't believe anyone with a name containing the word 'lie'.

Taught them about right and wrong answers too. They've all got this idea that there's only one correct solution to a problem. Explained that if I get one answer and they get a different one, it doesn't mean that either is wrong. One smart Alec said, "So if I divide six by two and get three – and you get three point five, we could both be right?" I told smarty–pants that this sort of problem will be covered in his Philosophy class. "But I'm not taking Philosophy!" he complained.

"Oh well, you'll miss it then, won't you." Kids!

Thursday 7

Having berated my class a little, I must say that they're the politest, most respectful and honest students I've ever met – truly. You just can't beat Chinese students (well, you get into trouble if you do). They called me 'Laoshi' at first – which means teacher (rather flattering I thought). I told them my English name was Simon, but they wanted to give me a Chinese name.

"Okay, pick one for me," I said.

They all got together, talking in Chinese and giggling, then said,

"We would like to call you: 'Ruo Zhi'" (pronounced Roar–Jer) they said, and even wrote it down for me in Chinese characters for me (弱智). How nice!

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"Extremely intelligent," one said, smiling.

"Well, shay shay," I replied (that's thank you in Chinese).

Such lovely kids.

Friday 8

Thought it would be a good idea to have some business cards printed with my Chinese name on them. Went to see Lucy in the office and showed her my new name. It's really nice when Chinese girls smile, and Lucy has such a wonderful smile – and a funny laugh. I heard her laugh when I asked for one thousand copies of the card. Well, you've got to think big.

Saturday 9

Julie's birthday – hurrah! Actually, I thought we celebrated that last April, but she said that today is her official birthday – and she wanted to spend the whole day with me! I asked her where she'd like to go, and she said the 'Shanghai World Expo'. What a great idea! (I thought.) We took the Metro to the Expo site – it was easy to get there (except when we took the wrong metro train, and got lost three times). Julie said she was European at heart, so that's where we started – Europe.

After queuing for nearly an hour, we finally got into the Spanish Pavilion. A bit weird, I have to say. The last room had a huge baby inside – I mean, this thing was BIG – and so lifelike. Julie couldn't contain herself and jumped up and down like a three–year–old.

"I want one, I want one!" Everyone turned and looked at her (and not just because of her hair).

"But it's too big!" I told her. "It'll never fit inside our apartment."

"No, not that one. I want a real baby – my baby. Can we have one Simon – can we make a baby?"

I looked at her, then at the baby, then back at Julie. "What now? Here?"

"Forget it, I'll find someone else," she said. And with a toss of red and green locks, she stormed off in the direction of Italy.

Don't how she got into the Italian Pavilion without queuing, but it could have been her hair colour. Anyway, went for a drink in the Italian Pizza restaurant whilst I waited for her to come out. One glass of wine turned to two, and then three. Got talking to the waitress who'd come over especially for the Expo.

"Y'know, you look quite Italian... even sound like one."

"Yes, perhaps that's because I'm from Napoli," she said.

"Is that anywhere near Italy?" I managed to say. She laughed and went to serve someone more sensible and sober.

Julie eventually turned up, looking fed up. "I want to go home now."

"But you've only seen two countries!"

"It's enough. I'm tired... and you're drunk."

Sunday 10

Didn't know what to do today. Julie'd gone off with one of her students – teaching him English in 'real life situations', as she likes to do. She's always working that girl. So thought I'd start on my piece for the Writers' group meeting.

SATURDAYS, by Simon Broom (Ruo Zhi).

Saturdays come before Mondays,

And even before Sundays.

They're after Fridays,

And Thursdays,

And even Wednesdays.

But what about Tuesdays?

Is Saturday before or after Tuesday?

Where does 'before' end, and 'after' start?

When is the horse put before the cart?

Who knows the answer,

And who really cares?

As long as

We get

Our

Day

Off.

I showed it to Julie when she came home, and she said, "Yeah, nice Babe. Keep trying, and don't give up. You've got to get all this crap out of your system before you can get to the good stuff." I think that was encouragement.

"How's your writing going?" I asked. "Anything ready for next meeting?"

"Work in progress," she said. Great title I thought, but actually she meant she was still working on it. Apparently it's called "Love in Beijing."

"Sounds like a great story Jules...," I said, "I really like good fiction."

"Who said anything about fiction?" she replied.

Monday 11

Dr Wang said there were vacancies on an international examination training course in Guangzhou, South China, next weekend, and did I want to go? Can't take Julie, unfortunately, because it's only for maths and science teachers. "Do I qualify as a Maths or Science teacher?" I joked with Dr Wang. "Only just," she said.

In the afternoon Clive told me that the English department has organised an English Speech competition for the students and he needs some judges. "No problem, Clivey, I'm your man," I said. "Never judged a competition before, but I'm sure it'll be a doddle."

"Actually, I mean... could you find some judges for me?"

I must have looked really crestfallen because he gave me the job anyway.

The first contestant was a girl called Angel, with a speech called 'My Family'.

"I love my family so much," she started, "particularly my mother and father. But which one am I closer to? Well, it has to be my mother. Why? Because 'father' means further away..."

The next was Brett who talked about 'War and Death'.

"Do you know how many people died in wars during the last one hundred years?" he asked. Must admit, I didn't know that one – but fortunately he answered the question for us. "In World War One, sixteen million people died and twenty–one million were injured. In World War Two, over sixty–two million people lost their lives; in the Korean War..."

These students don't hold back – and their English was great!

I did cause a tiny problem with the competition marking when I gave the third student (Stella) one hundred percent. The next speech was better, so I gave him one hundred and ten percent. But the next was better still, so I had to give her one hundred and twenty–five percent.

Afterwards, Clive was frowning and he asked me why I gave Stella one hundred percent, when everyone else gave her less than ten.

"Well, she had a sexy smile," I said, "and she did talk about my favourite subject."

"What, 'Women's Fashion in the Eighteenth Century?'"

I shrugged my shoulders, and Clive walked off shaking his head. He must have got that from Dr Wang.

I told Julie about the competition, and she agreed that the students' English is better than mine. "Yeah, but I've got the vernacular, I said." She looked alarmed.

"You should really see a doctor about that," she said sternly. "And we're definitely not having sex this week." She even phoned the local clinic to make an appointment for me! What's that about?

Later she said she'd Googled 'Vernacular Disease' and said there's no such ailment; I must mean 'Venereal Disease'.

"What, I've got VD!"

"You told me you did."

"I did?"

"I think so."

"Can we play back the tape please?" I was joking, of course, being my usual humorous self.

"I don't have a tape," she stated. "I only use hard–disc recording."

My eyes popped. "What, you really do record our conversations?" I gasped.

"Yes – but I didn't get that one unfortunately." I had to ask her why. "I was busy – you caught me by surprise," she said.

"No, I don't mean why you didn't record that conversation – I mean, 'why do you do it at all!'" I was beginning to wonder about Julie: which government agency was she working for? "Are you a spy Julie?" I asked (I then realised that if she was a spy, she would hardly admit it).

"No, Toni from the Writers group suggested it..."

"Is Toni a spy?" She thought for a minute. "Maybe. He thinks you say some really funny things at times, and I should capture them for posterity."

"For who?"

"For whom," she corrected.

Apparently, Toni thinks I'm a bit of a wit (I think Julie said 'wit') and he suggested recording our conversations, so that one day – when I sell my blog to a big publisher and make lots of money – I can make sure it's accurate. Mmm....

Tuesday 12

Couldn't believe that Julie actually records our conversations... will have to be careful what I say in future.

Anyway, it was a good Writers meeting last night. Having brought some of my own writing, I was welcomed as an official member of the club. Hurrah! They let me go first, and I handed out copies of my story called 'War and Peace' (which raised a few eyebrows for some reason). This was inspired by the speech given by my student Brett.

WAR AND PEACE, by Simon Broom.

In this day and age, we cannot have peace without war – but we can have war without peace. War leaves people in pieces, countries in pieces, jigsaws in pieces. Some people say, 'Give Peace a Chance'. But I say, 'Give War a Chance'. We can only understand Peace when we understand War. Without War, there would be no Peace Process, no World War Two movies, no Vietnam Trilogy. Sylvester Stallone would be a nobody, and my granddad would not have met my gran, so my mum would not have been born, which means that I would not have been born either, which means I would not be writing this now. So, we have war to thank for all that.

Warlords and war–mongers. People selling war, like fish–mongers selling fish, only more deadly. Sharks perhaps.

War: what are we fighting for? Nothing!

At the end, Anton said, "Apart from writing, what other things do you do?" I looked blank. Then he added, "I mean, what are you good at?"

Wednesday 13

Decided that I will go on the training course to Guangzhou this weekend. It's free, and a good chance to see more of China. Only downside: I've got to share a room with Klaus – and he's not going to let me forget what I said about maths teachers. I did ask Dr Wang if I could share with Google, but she said that would not be possible – unless I wanted to marry her. I thought about that. It would only cost five kwai to get married; but then she might want things like babies, a house, a car, and a diamond ring. A room with Klaus it is then.

Thursday 14

Had a goodbye dinner with Julie before heading off to Guangzhou tomorrow. Told her not to worry – I've got my passport and visa this time. Julie's keeping to her Pescetarian diet, and wanted to talk about food.

"Do you know where meat comes from Simon," she said.

"Yeah, course I do – from the supermarket."

"No, before that."

"A distributor?"

"Before that." I knew the answer, I knew it... I just needed time. Then she said. "From a Prison, Simon – that's where it comes from." I was shocked. What was I eating? "Farms are prisons," she said vehemently. She was getting very passionate about this now, "and you are eating the inmates."

I looked down at my chicken drumstick, half expecting to see it chained to the table leg.

Friday 15

It's two a.m. Officially Saturday I suppose. This afternoon (Friday) we flew down to Guangzhou for the Conference. I sat next to Klaus and we had a good chat. Fortunately, he said nothing at all about me being a 'boring' maths teacher. Instead, he asked if I was familiar with Newton's three laws of Motion. I think the way I said "Newton who?" sort of answered his question. But as soon as he mentioned the guy with the apple, I knew who he meant straightaway. "He was taking a risk though, wasn't he?" I said.

"Well yes," Klaus replied. "His theory of gravitation was ground–breaking, and he initially had the whole scientific community against him."

"Yeah, but just think about his son, I said. "I mean, that arrow could easily have missed the apple and gone straight through his eye."

Tonight, we decided to hit the town and have a few drinks. We tried to creep out without Sheila knowing, but she could smell a good night out from fifty paces.

"Hey, wait for me – I'll be right down," she shouted from her bedroom window. So the five of us – Klaus, Google, Big Ron, Sheila and me – headed for the bright lights of Guangzhou.

We found a place called the 'Tomato Bar' in some backstreet downtown. Ron liked it because everything was red, and matched his Arsenal shirt. And Sheila liked it because it was a bar.

"Y'know why I like a drink, fellas?"she said waving her glass like it was a magic wand. "It's Chemistry, pure and simple... a girl needs a drink, like a man needs a bicycle..."

Klaus frowned. "I don't have a bicycle," he said.

"I mean, like a man needs a woman," Sheila corrected. Big Ron's eyes lit up. The next thing I knew, he was away having a tete–a–tete with Sheila, whilst I was staring into the eyes of Google.

"I've never been drunk," she said, "What's it like?"

"Well, let's find out," I said topping up her glass.

I don't remember anything else.

(Note to self: delete this entry from my Blog in case Julie sees it, and gets the right impression.)

Saturday 16

First day of our course. Learnt how to mark maths exam papers correctly (could be useful). Met other maths teachers, who were very friendly – and not at all boring. Bit worried about the one who blew me a kiss across the table, though. His name was Keith. The tutor (a lady from England who grows her own vegetables and has three dogs and seven grandchildren) got us working in groups marking last year's Pure Mathematics 1 exam paper. I worked with Sophie from Shenzhen, Iris from Guangzhou, and (unfortunately) Keith from California. Didn't always see eye–to–eye with all of them – particularly Keith, who had this habit of touching my arm whenever he made a point.

I wanted to give candidates gold stars for neat hand–writing, but Iris and Keith said we had to stick to the rules (boring). Sophie was much more easy–going, and said she would give me a gold star for my marking any time. How sweet! She later told me about some hot–springs nearby where she often goes after work. "We usually swim Au Natural," she said. I was impressed – I'm not a natural swimmer at all. But apparently, she was speaking French, and this meant going starkers! "Okay," I said, "But no photographs."

Sunday 17

Second and last day of our course. Went swimming in the hot springs last night. Felt a teeny bit embarrassed sitting in the water wearing nothing but my birthday suit waiting for Sophie and her friends to turn up. When they eventually arrived they all had their swimming costumes on! It was the traditional 'wind–up the foreign teacher' gag. I stayed cross–legged in the water for over an hour praying for them to leave before I crept out the pool.

Sophie sat next to me in class today, and burst out laughing every time I looked at her, so I stopped doing that. Keith was wearing a cologne which I think was called 'Come and Get Me'; and Iris and I continued to work hard on the projects, with a disapproving frown anytime anyone else stopped work to chat.

When it was time to say goodbye and go home, we all exchanged business cards. I proudly pointed out my Chinese name, Ruo Zhi, which made the Chinese teachers very happy. Even Iris couldn't stop laughing. Nice to cheer them up.

On the plane home I sat next to Big Ron, whilst Klaus and Google were deep in conversation (about 'Magneto–hydro–dynamics' or something). Actually, Ron's a really nice guy – desperate to find a wife in China. Told him about the five kwai marriage and nine kwai divorce deal, and he was really interested. "Does that include tax?" he asked. "No, but it does include service," I said.

Arrived back in Shanghai quite late. Julie was fast asleep, so didn't wake her. Another day, another yuan tomorrow.

Monday 18

Filled Julie in on the Guangzhou trip after work today. Asked her first if she was recording our conversation. She said she was, so decided to be careful what I said.

"How did Google enjoy the trip?" she asked.

"Google? Which Google is that?"

"How many people do you know called Google?"

I thought for a moment, counting on my fingers. "Er, one."

"So?"

"Dunno, we didn't really talk... I think she mostly chatted with Klaus – really into all that German technology. Oh, is that the time – I really should go to bed, busy day tomorrow..."

"It's only six–thirty," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've got to write my blog..."

Tuesday 19

Not a good day at school. Julie told her English class that she wants a baby, and three students volunteered to help. Then she said, "No, no – with my boyfriend," at which they naturally said, "Who's your boyfriend?"

Now she could have said anything: Richard Branson, Winston Churchill, Mickey Mouse, or mind your own business. But no, she had to tell the truth – and the conversation went like this (apparently):

"Simon..." she said.

"You mean Ruo Zhi?" they said.

"Who's Ruo Zhi?" she said.

"It's Simon – our maths teacher."

"Why do you call him Ruo Zhi?"

They got a bit embarrassed at this point and didn't want to say; but Julie wouldn't let it go.

"Cut the crap, guys – what does Ruo Zhi mean?"

"Er... 'IQ of Zero', Miss."

Well ha–bloody–ha. The worse thing is that Julie replied, "What a brilliant name!" And she couldn't stop laughing.

Anyone want to buy one thousand business cards... special price?

Wednesday 20

My students were very quiet today. They knew I'd lost a lot of face – or mianzi, as they call it here. One lad told me that my Chinese name was actually a compliment, like calling a big guy 'Tiny'. So calling me 'Zero IQ' really means I am very intelligent. Makes sense. He did suggest I take the name off my business cards though.

I'm a bit worried about Julie. Her references to babies are getting more and more frequent. What shall I do? Probably a good idea to talk it over with Mum – I'll give her a ring on Friday.

Thursday 21

I hadn't seen Google since we came back from Guangzhou, so invited her for a coffee at school after lunch. Had a few things to talk about.

"Do you want to have a baby?" I asked. She looked a bit shocked.

"I don't think I know you well enough," she said.

I explained that I meant with her future husband, not yours truly, and she looked relieved. "Yes, of course – every Chinese girl wants a child." I asked her why. "Babies are beautiful, and it's something to play with when you get bored with your husband."

I don't know what she said after that because I went into a sort of weird dream. I could see Google's lips moving, but all I heard in my head were the words, 'bored, bored, bored...' Was Julie bored with me? Was that why she went off to Portugal with Paulo, and now goes up to Beijing? Is a helpless infant who can't talk, cries all night, throws up, wets the bed and poops its pants, more interesting than me? Don't answer that.

Friday 22

Gave Mum a call at 10 a.m. this morning – didn't want to call too early in case she was having a lie–in. (I think this sort of consideration is one of my strongest points.)

"Hi Mum, it's me."

"Simon?" she said. "Do you know what time it is?"

That's my Mum all right – still thinks I'm a little kid. So I played along with her.

"Yes Mum – the big hand's on the twelve, and the little hand's on the ten... so it must be ten o'clock!"

"For god's sake Simon – that's in China! It's two in the morning here."

Oops! Phoned her back eight hours later when I got home from school.

"I just wanted to ask a question about Julie, Mum. She's always talking about babies – and I think she wants one. I don't know what to do."

"Are you wearing protection, Simon?"

Here she goes again – always the mother looking after her young son.

"Yes Mum, I'm being a good little boy."

"Well, she's never going to have a baby with you then, is she?"

She had a point.

"But I'm not sure I'm ready to be a father..."

"Then she'll find someone else who is ready... women do that. Grow up Simon."

Saturday 23

A bit down after my conversation with Mum yesterday. But hey, it's the weekend! I'd had enough of baby talk – so invited Big Ron and Klaus for a boys' night out down the pub this evening – with football, pool and beer. Yeah, bring it on!

Ron suggested a bar he knew called Jane's downtown, so we headed off there. Nice place. All the waitresses were good looking girls with big smiles, big personalities, and big... I love Julie, of course, but it's so nice to spend some quality time with the guys.

"This is a great place, Ron – and the girls seem to know you pretty well!" I said.

"Yeah... discovered it a couple of weeks ago, and I've been coming here ever since."

"Who's the one who keeps looking over at us? She's cute..." I was talking to Ron as he took his shot on the pool table. He completely missed the ball.

"Ah..." he said, looking up, "that's Venus."

"Earth's mysterious sister," said Klaus. "What secrets does she hold?"

"You remember when you told us all about that five yuan marriage deal, Simon?" How could I forget. "Well, I've paid my five yuan and that's my girl!"

We didn't know what to say – except..."You're married?" The big grin on the big man seemed to confirm that he was. "Well congratulations!" Beers all round.

Whilst Ron was away chatting to Venus, Klaus and I had a heart–to–heart talk. I was in for a shock. "Simon," he said, "I have to tell you some–zing. I hope it's not inappropriate or out of order."

"Shoot," I said, "we're mates, aren't we? What's up?"

"I'm in love with Julie."

"Come again? You mean my Julie?" he nodded. "But, but... you can't be!"

"Why not? She's beautiful, she looks and talks like a German, and we share the same interests."

"You do?" Was I dreaming? This couldn't be true.

"Yah, we both like collecting coins." Well, I know that's true about Julie – she likes collecting bank notes as well... usually mine. Then he dropped the bombshell.

"Last night, Julie und I had sex – in my bed." This was unbelievable. Astonishment is putting it mildly – particularly as Julie spent last night with me (well, I think it was Julie). But Klaus had not finished. "It was the most wonderful moment of my life... und when I woke up, I knew I vos in love."

"Woke up? So this was just a dream!"

"You may call it a dream, Simon; but I believe our two Souls were united in unearthly bliss."

(Note to self: ask Julie where her Soul was last night.)

Sunday 24

Wanted to talk to Julie about Klaus when I got home, but she was fast asleep. Just hope her Soul wasn't having it off with Klaussie in a distant galaxy.

When I woke, she was already up, and I found her in the living room cupping a coffee, looking wistfully out of the window.

"Julie, I've got something to ask you..." I said seriously, "it's important." Suddenly I noticed I hadn't tied one of my shoelaces and bent down to fix it.

The next thing I knew she was kissing me all over, saying, "Oh, yes, yes, yes – I do, I do!" Then she stopped and looked at me quizzically. "You do love me, don't you Simon?" I thought for a moment.

"Why wouldn't I love you?" I replied.

"Then yes – I do want to get married. Let's do it soon."

What could I say? Not exactly what I had planned, but it's nice to see her happy. And old Klaussie has no chance now. In your dreams, mate.

Monday 25

I feel at home with creative people. English is my first love (don't tell Julie that). Everyone was at the Writers' group meeting tonight – Anton (intellectual stuff), Melissa (dark earthy fiction), Maddy (book on Sydney),Toni (artist & poet), Julie and me. Maddy began by telling us all about the guy she met when she travelled to Australia on holiday a few years ago. Apparently, they met climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It was the first time she'd ever climbed anything so high, and she was petrified – as well as feeling rather nauseous. He was very comforting, having climbed lots of bridges and several mountains. She ended up throwing up all over him, and the rest – they say – is history. She's calling the book 'Love at First Height'. A good yarn, I thought, though the others spotted little things I'd completely missed (27 spelling mistakes, 19 grammatical errors, 7 historical inaccuracies, and 2 blatant lies).

Julie then gave us copies of 'Love in Beijing' to read. I thought it was going to be a book, but apparently she'd told me it was novel, rather than it's a novel. She was right.

Love in Beijing, by Julie Bucket.

Airport counters

Fucking headaches

Tiresome routines

Fucking headaches.

Plastic smiles

And plastic forks.

Planes landing

Hearts beating.

Belligerent Beijing

History meets the Future.

Forbidden City,

Forbidden Love

False promises,

False pretences.

Please take me home.

I noticed that Julie had dropped the name J.K. Rowling. She said it's because young children might read her work, and it could upset them. Can't think why. People really liked her poem about Beijing though, and Melissa and Maddy encouraged her to write about other Chinese cities. She was dead pleased with that idea. "Oh, we can explore China together, Simon – and I can write on the way home!"

Toni was going to read a poem inspired by his painting of Julie, but said the picture wasn't quite finished. Could she come round this weekend for a touch up, he asked.

Tuesday 26

Big excitement at school this week. All the kids are getting ready for Halloween – making costumes, carving pumpkins, etc. I'm thinking of going as Freddy from 'Nightmare on Elm Street.'

Really getting the hang of this maths teaching now. It's great to have the answers in the back of the textbooks to check your own. Though I have to say I've found a few incorrect solutions in the book. When I say 'a few', I mean close to a hundred. I'm thinking of writing to the Publishers to let them know – I'm sure they'll appreciate that.

Dr Wang has been encouraging the maths teachers to observe each others' lessons as part of our professional development, so I'm taking a look at old Klaussie's tomorrow.

Wednesday 27

Met Big Ron for coffee after lunch, and had a good chat about marriage. I wanted to know what it was like being hooked. "Well," he said, "for starters, everything's on tap!" He gave me a nudge with his elbow that nearly threw me out of the coffee bar window. "And, I don't have to do any cooking, washing or cleaning." I was impressed.

"It sounds like you've died and gone to heaven!" (Guess who does all that in our household? I'll give you a clue: it's not Julie.)

"And with two incomes, you must be in the money too, big man?" He started to say something, but then closed his mouth. Thought for a second, then said.

"In life, it's always give and take. A week after we got married, Venus asked me to give her my salary every month..."

"What, all of it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She said she's better at managing money than me. Of course, at first I said 'no way...'"

"Too right!" I said finishing my coffee. "That's just an insane joke..."

"But then, it seemed to make sense... and she's been so good to me..."

"You give her everything?" he nodded. "Shit!"

Apparently, he gives her his entire income every month, and she gives him some spending money every week. But not enough to buy all the beer he'd like. Poor bloke!

Took a look at one of Klaussie's Physics lessons this afternoon. Wow! I was very impressed – this guy's a real teacher! Definitely knows his Physics – and can do the maths too. Afterwards I asked him what his secret was.

"Teach what you know, and teach what you don't," he said.

"How can I teach what I don't know?" I asked.

"Find out about it," he answered.

Klaus has just gone up ten places in my rankings, despite being German.

Thursday 28

Talked to Julie in bed last night about Big Ron and Venus. "God, she's died and gone to heaven, hasn't she?" Julie said. Perhaps not such a good idea to have mentioned that.

Since the Writers meeting, Julie's been planning her trips around China, starting with a city called Xi'an, where they have thousands of clay figures. According to what she said, these 'Terracotta Warriors' are over two thousand years old. Prefer to see new stuff personally, but I said I'd go with her. Unfortunately, she wants to fly. Hope she doesn't upset anyone.

Phoned Dad after school to see how things were going. He told me he's thinking of coming over to China to see Julie & me at Christmas! Fantastic! He's bringing Tara too – hurrah!

Friday 29

Oh my god! Received a postcard when I got home from work – it was from Mum. She's coming over to China for Christmas! Unbelievable! Said she wanted to surprise me, but also wanted to make sure I'd be in Shanghai – hence the postcard. Worse still, she's booked her tickets already – and she's coming with Donald the dentist!

Fortunately, though, Jules has come to the rescue again with one of her brilliant brainwaves: she'll take Dad and Tara on a trip to Xi'an for a few days, while I show Mum and Donald around Shanghai. Then we'll swap. That way, they'll all see Julie and me, and Shanghai, but not each other. Excellent! Oh, I do love Julie so much – and perhaps I'll have to marry her one day after all... but there's no rush.

Going into school on Sunday evening for the kids' Halloween party.

Saturday 30

Couldn't keep my eyes off Google yesterday. Every time she came into the teachers' office I got totally distracted from my lesson planning. I think I might be falling in love.

After work, wandered in a love–torn haze over to my favourite restaurant near the school. Totally empty (the restaurant, and my stomach), and I sat down to order. But there was something new on today's menu. An attractive young Chinese girl came in, said something to the waitress, and sat at my table! "Ni hao," she said.

"Ni hao...," I replied carefully. The staff seemed bemused. My waitress asked if this arrangement was okay. "Mei wenti," I said, which I've now learned means 'no problem'.

So we both ordered and Daisy (her name apparently) had the same as me. I asked what she did for a living. She didn't understand, so I said, "Wo shi Laoshi," (I'm a teacher).

"Oh, teacher!" she exclaimed.

I nodded. "Ni ne?" I said (and you?) Really getting into this lingo now.

"Dancer," she said, demonstrating her profession in her chair.

"Oh," I said, "and where do you dance?"

"Where would you like me to dance?" she asked. This was getting interesting.

"You mean, you'd dance for me personally?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Would you like to come to my home?

At this point, I started to get a bit of a stiff leg (I think it was my leg). Must have been the anticipation of all that dancing. Then I had one of those moments where a crossroads suddenly appears, and you have to decide which path to take. (Personally, I prefer roundabouts.)

"And where is home?" I asked.

"Over there." she said, pointing towards an apartment block opposite. The restaurant staff were very interested now (I think they had bets on whether or not I'd go with her). I hesitated for a moment, waiting for inspiration. Then I suddenly remembered that age–old saying: 'He who hesitates is a loser.'

"Why not?" I said, switching off my mobile phone.

(Note to self: delete, delete, delete this entry.)

Sunday 31

Just for the record, nothing happened on Friday night. Nothing at all – de nada, zilch. When I got home that night, Julie was still out – another session with one of her private English students, she said when she got back. She works so hard that girl. I did ask her how it went, but she said "He's a private student, Simon – don't you ever listen? I can't reveal someone's private business, can I?" So that put me in my place. But at least she didn't ask me about my evening. Not that anything happened, of course...

We both had a lie in on Saturday then I did the weekly washing, cleaning and shopping. I did ask Julie if she'd like to help, but she said she had an awful lot to do that day, and would be extremely busy. I noted that 'extremely busy' meant lying on the sofa, reading magazines and watching DVDs. How I do envy Big Ron sometimes... though at least Julie's never asked me to give her all my salary. Not yet anyway.

I felt very uneasy for the rest of the day. I love Julie, but I'm scared of making that big commitment. I know it's only five kwai to get married (about fifty pence), but it's the consequences that scare the pants off me. Am I giving up my freedom for the rest of my life? What's next, a baby? (I've just remembered our trip to the Expo: oh yes – definitely a baby.) Am I ready for sleepless nights, bed–wetting, nappy–changing, and no sex? After some thought, decided this was too big a decision to make on my own – I needed help from a higher power. So, heads I marry Julie, tails I don't...

I flipped the coin in the air, and let it fall onto the beautiful wooden floor in our apartment. It spun round a couple of times before coming to a long and noisy stop. I peered down to see the result, and that's when I realised for the first time that there are no heads on Chinese coins.

* * *
November

Monday 1

A new month begins. We've been in Shanghai for two months now, and we're still here. It was supposed to be the Halloween party yesterday evening, but Dr Wang realised it was a Sunday so it was postponed until tonight.

Brought up the coin question with my maths class today. "Okay guys – a question for you to start the day. On a one yuan coin, which is heads: 'Zhongguo Renmin Yinhang' with a pretty picture of a man–eating plant; or 'Yi Yuan 2005' with a big number one'?" They looked puzzled. Then a girl at the front said, "We don't have heads or tails on our coins; but if it has to be one or the other, I guess must be the plant."

"No," said another student, "it has be number one."

So the Jury's out on the marriage question (fingers crossed for a long lunch–break).

* * *

Just come back from the Halloween party... what have I done?

I must admit, I never expected Julie to dress like a man – a male vampire, in fact. Klaussie also cross–dressed and came as a rather sexy looking female vampire. Amazing what a bit of make–up, the right wig, black silk stockings, a padded bra and a bit of perfume can do. As soon as he saw Julie, he was attracted like a magnet. I was not too pleased, I can tell you. Talking about his love for her is one thing – drinking her blood is an entirely different matter.

Meanwhile, Graham was chatting Sheila up, whilst she was swigging from a bottle labelled 'Fresh Blood', but I suspect it was in fact Bloody Mary (excuse my language).

I was getting a bit sick of seeing Klaussie drooling all over Julie by this time, and finally lost my rag. "Look Klaussie," I said, "I've just about had it up to here with you chatting up Julie – or should I say, 'my wife'.

"Your wife?" he repeated. "You mean... you and Julie are married?"

Everything stopped. The conversation, the music, the World. The students, who had previously been involved in Halloween games, were suddenly paying attention. Then Big Ron broke the silence:

"Well, congratulations!" Everyone (except Julie and me) cheered and clapped. The guys slapped me on the back, and the girls kissed Julie. The students went back to their games. Julie looked confused.

"When did we get married?" she whispered, "I don't remember it."

"Oh, you know... it was very quick," I said confidently.

"Was I there?" she asked.

"No I... I did it on my own. You can do that in China."

She looked even more confused. "But shouldn't you have given me a ring?"

"Well, I tried – several times – but your phone was always busy."

"No – I mean a ring for my finger."

"Oh, I see... well... that's all in hand."

I think that's how it went. It was all a bit of a blur. I might not have been totally honest with Julie about one or two details, but it's the thought that counts.

Tuesday 2

Was deep in thought in the coffee bar this afternoon about Julie and wedlock, when Graham blew in.

"Hey, Simon – how's things in the Math department?" Groan. Had to tell him that it's Maths, not 'Math'. No–one says 'Physic' for Physics, 'Economic' for Economics, or 'Business Stud' for Business Studies, so what's with this Math stuff?

Actually, when I said 'Business Stud' his face lit up, and he went into a dream–like euphoria for a moment. Then he snapped out of it, laughed and punched me on the shoulder.

"Hey Buddy, you're fun!" Then he came close and whispered, "Wanna make some big money... real quick?"

"Do I look stupid?" I said. He looked at me strangely.

"Well, I have to say that from this angle... yeah, you do a bit. But that's not your best side."

When he took me to the Photocopy room, I thought: okay I know where this is going. But actually this was just the quickest way to the Business Studies office. Then he showed me a pretty cool website.

"You see, kid, in China, gambling's pretty much a no–no – unless you're in Macau. But playing the stock market is perfectly legal. And guess who knows all about the Stock Market?"

"Warren Buffet?" I ventured.

"Apart from him."

"Howard Hughes?"

"No."

"Gordon Brown?"

"Who's he?"

"Former British Prime Minister."

"No, definitely not."

"The Wall Street Journal?"

"No! It's me! I know everything you need to know about making money on the stock market – it's what I do."

Graham proceeded to pick out a handful of companies with 'hot' stock. All I had to do was buy 100,000 Yuan worth of shares in them. "Woah! That's ten thousand quid!" I said.

"Speculate to accumulate," he replied.

"Spend a packet on a foolish racket," I countered.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he added.

"Lose control, lose your Soul," I said.

"Damned if you do, and damned if you don't."

I had no answer to that. So I just asked him how I bought the shares.

"Well, first you give your money to me..."

See you later alligator.

Question: If Graham is so red–hot at playing the markets and making a fast buck, what is he doing working at our school?

Wednesday 3

It's our mid–term examinations next week, and Dr Wang has asked me to set the maths paper! "But don't make it too difficult," she said, "we don't want the students demoralised by low grades – the parents won't be pleased." Message received – Roger and Out.

Had no lessons in the afternoon, so began work on the maths paper. Thought I'd set a multiple choice type of exam – these are my questions so far:

Q1: A number which can only be divided by one and itself is called:

  1. A Prime Number

  2. A Prime Minister

  3. A Prime Steak

  4. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.

Q2: Pythagorean Geometry was invented by:

  1. Isaac Newton

  2. Richard Branson

  3. Pythagoras

  4. Your maths teacher

Q3: The distance between the points (x1, y1) and (x2, y2) is:

  1. 4 metres

  2. The square root of the squares of the differences between {x1, x2} and {y1, y2}.

  3. E = mc2

  4. A long way

Q4: A Surd is:

  1. A person who comes from Afghanistan

  2. A long, sharp weapon, made of steel

  3. A silly word

  4. A number which can't be simplified to remove a square root, cube root, etc.

I gave these questions to Julie to try out, and she only got one right (and that was a lucky guess). But when I told her it was in fact a maths test, not a general knowledge quiz, she did get all the right answers.

I think Dr Wang will be pleased.

Thursday 4

I've tried to forget about our Halloween party; but the truth is I've told everyone at school that Julie and I are married – so what now? Suppose I'll have to buy her an expensive ring. How did I get into this mess? How do you find someone's ring size anyway – without asking them? I was looking for inspiration when Julie walked through the door.

"Simon, you know you said that the new bread knife was very sharp..."

"Yeessss..." I said slowly.

"Well, you were right." She held up a finger wrapped in bloody tissue. What can I do with her?

"Give that to me...."

"It's still attached..."

"I mean come here."

The cut wasn't deep and just needed cleaning and a plaster putting on it. Then a light bulb went on. "I just need to measure it," I said.

"What, my finger?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"These Band–Aids aren't any good. They say one size fits all, but that's crap. I need to buy some made–to–measure ones for you." She looked surprised (as I would be). I continued, "We just give them your measurements and they manufacture the plasters to your size – a bit like having a suit made."

"These Chinese can do anything," she said in awe.

Julie had the bright idea of using a piece of string to measure the circumference of her finger. This was after I broke the plastic ruler trying to bend it around her digit.

Friday 5 Guy Fawkes Night!

Last night I looked in the local supermarket for wedding rings, but they were all plastic ones costing fifteen kwai. Did wonder for a moment if that would do the trick; but then decided that Julie is worth a bit more than that. So just bought a packet of assorted plasters instead. Took them home, and told Julie these were a temporary measure whilst the personalised ones were being made – should have those tomorrow.

Told my students all about Guido Fawkes and the Gunpowder plot today. Y'know, I'd really like to teach history. I think I've got a flair for telling stories, and I think that's all you need to be a good history teacher. Couldn't remember the name of the king that Guido was trying to blow up, or the year of the plot – or the names of the conspirators – but I think they got the idea. Did tell them about the time my uncle Ernie lost an eye setting off a rocket from a milk bottle. Told him to stay away from it when it didn't go off straightaway, but he did insist on shaking the bottle as he peered down the neck.

When I told the students that us Brits invented fireworks they didn't seem too pleased. One even claimed that the Chinese invented them two thousand years ago! Kids! Anyway, I thought I'd give them face, so I said it was a joint venture between the two countries. Still didn't seem happy though...

Saturday 6

Went downtown this morning to buy that special ring for Julie. God the prices! Gave the measurements to the woman in the store and she hand–picked a few wedding rings for me. She told me it really had to be a diamond for a wedding ring, so found a diamond ring that didn't cost the Earth, but looked cool. "How can you tell the difference between the real deal and a fake?" I asked. Fortunately, she could speak some English.

"Oh, it's cut of stone, and shine. Anyone which works in diamond ring industry knows difference."

"What about people like me?" I asked.

"Some stones, such as Cubic Zirconia, are so close to look and feel of diamond you cannot see difference. Only trained experts know." She showed me a CZ ring. It was a quarter of the price, and for the life of me I couldn't tell which was which. But, of course, I had to get the real deal for my Julie, didn't I?

Sunday 7

Fortunately, I think Julie had completely forgotten about the made–to–measure Band–Aids when I got home. She was sitting in the lounge watching a movie (The Wedding Planner), and I told her to close her eyes. Then I pulled out the box containing the ring. "I love you Jules," I said.

"I love you too, Simon," she said, still with her eyes closed.

"You can open them now..."

"Oh! Simon!" She opened the box, and took out the ring. "It's beautiful! Is it a real diamond?"

"Only the best for you baby."

She tried to put it on. "It's a bit tight... but it fits on this other finger perfectly!" It was nice to see her so happy. She stood up and gave me a big, passionate kiss. "And now we're married!" she said.

"Sure are."

"There's one thing I wanted to ask you... can I see a copy of the marriage licence?"

Panic!

"Of course you can... only... only... it's still in the government office. They don't give it to you straightaway – you have to wait. You know these Chinese..."

"Oh, okay," she said. "It's just that I wanted to see what my new name looks like in black and white."

"New name?"

"Yes – Julie Broom."

"Oh, that new name..." Panic! "Well, you'll see that soon enough."

Monday 8

One lie follows another.

Decided today that I'll have to straighten everything out – do the marriage thing properly and get certified. Either certified insane or certified married. Looked up the British Embassy's Shanghai website and discovered that we both need 'Certificates of No Impediment' before we can get married in China. Thought it could be a problem at first (Julie does seem to walk strangely sometimes). But then discovered that 'impediment' means not being married already. Well, we're both in the clear then. All we have to do is apply for these certificates at the British Consulate downtown, and then get married – for real this time.

Told Julie about the 'No Impediment' certificates over dinner. Didn't tell her we weren't really married – just said it was a formality, a bit of paperwork to make everything completely legal. She went very quiet, and then said, "If someone got married in another country – I mean, not in China or the UK – would that count?"

"Well, yeah... married is married. Why d'you ask?"

"You remember when I went to Portugal with Paulo... the waiter I knew..."

"Yeah..."

"Well, we went out for a few drinks one night to celebrate his birthday – with some friends of his. It was a real laugh, and we all got a bit drunk. A lot drunk. Then Paulo said we should get married – me and him – just for a laugh. He said one of his friends was a priest, and he could do it for us, there and then. So I said, 'Oh, go on then!' This guy did all the religious ceremony stuff – and it was a scream. He was like a stand–up comedian, and talked all this nonsense about Adam & Eve, saying that Adam had a spare rib, and God didn't know whether to barbecue it or turn it into a woman! Paulo even pulled out a ring he'd found in his restaurant, and put it on my finger. I didn't think it was serious. But the next day, Paulo showed me the marriage certificate! I went ballistic, and told him to undo the whole thing – but he said he didn't want to: he was in love with me. That's when I realised how stupid I was to leave you and go to Portugal, and I took the next flight home."

I was stunned.

"So you're married – to Paulo?" I said. She nodded.

"So, we can't be legally married in China, right?" She collapsed in my arms and sobbed. "I'm sorry Simon, I really am. I want to marry you."

Tuesday 9

Couldn't get yesterday out of my mind. Julie – married to that Portuguese waste–of–space...

Quickly came out of my depression when I heard some breaking news at school: Big Ron received a verbal warning from Dr Wang! She told him that wearing his football shirt in class was 'not professional'. He replied that Arsenal is a professional football club and he was proud to support them. She said it is not a Chinese thing to do, and asked him to remove it. So he did – right in front of her – and proceeded to teach his next lesson bare–chested!

Well, that's the story. Klaus and me took Ron for a drink after school to get the full details. Apparently, his students were either very embarrassed or very amused when he removed his shirt. One said to another, "Ta zhang le hen duo mao!" (He's so hairy.) Klaus asked what Dr Wang did next.

"Nothing," said Ron. "She just walked away shaking her head."

"D'you think you'll get fired?"

"No way... I'm a Biology teacher – we never get fired. Too many jobs chasing too few teachers. Anyway, I was teaching Human Biology at the time, so the bare chest thing fitted in nicely." Then Ron turned to me. "Talking of bare chests, how's married life, Simon? Keeping up with her?" Klaus laughed. Then Ron said, "By the way, you'll qualify for the married person's housing allowance now – an extra two thousand yuan a month."

My eyes turned to dollar signs.

"I will?"

"Yeah. Just go and see Joey in HR and he'll fix it for you. You just have to show him your marriage certificate."

I hate Portuguese waiters.

Wednesday 10

Apparently, Joey is an ABC – according to Sammy in Admin. That means 'American Born Chinese', she told me.

"Does that make a difference?" I asked.

"Some people think he's not real Chinese," she said. "He can't get a Chinese passport."

"Well, neither can I," I replied, "so I'm the same as Joey." She looked puzzled.

"I don't think it works like that," she said.

Told Julie about the extra money we could get if we were married. She didn't react for a minute, and then said, "What if Paulo came over here, and I showed Joey our marriage certificate. Would that do?"

"Are you crazy?" I said, "I thought you hated the guy?"

"Yeah... but just supposing. I can get the marriage allowance if I'm married, and my husband's in Shanghai, right?"

"No – not right! You'd have to live with him!"

"But who would know that I wasn't?"

I thought about that.

"But Joey would see the name 'Paulo Bastardo', or whatever his name is, and know it wasn't me!"

"Why do I have to be married to you?"

"Well, for starters, I've told half the population of Shanghai that we are."

Then she said I just had to admit I'd made a mistake. "We invite Paulo over here, get the certificate, get the money from Joey, and then you kill him.

"Why would I want to kill Joey?"

"Not Joey – Paulo."

Thursday 11

Couldn't get last night's conversation out of my head today. Sometimes I wonder if Julie has a strange twin sister who pops up now and then to torment me. Thought about bringing up the topic again at breakfast, but realised she might ask me to actually hire an assassin. Then I had a brainwave. Called Big Ron, and arranged to meet him at Starbucks.

"So, you'd like to borrow my marriage certificate, Simon... because?"

"Oh, it's not for me – it's Julie. She just wants to see if yours is the same as ours. Women, eh!"

"Well, I can tell you straightaway that it's not."

"It isn't?"

"No – mine's got my name on it!"

Are all Arsenal fans like this?

Anyway, he said 'no problem' and he'd bring it in to school tomorrow. What a guy.

Friday 12

Mid–term exam results out!

Feeling very pleased with myself today: all my maths students scored one hundred percent in the examinations. Well, all but one (who thought they were trick questions on the paper and failed). Couldn't wait to see Dr Wang's face! Perhaps this could mean a raise – or head of department...

"Simon – I don't know what to say..."

"Bu keqi," I said (you're welcome).

"Two of the parents are furious. Their son Troy, the best student in the school, only scored ten percent in your test."

"Yes, but everyone else scored full–marks," I pointed out.

"Which makes it ten times worse! Do know what his father is?"

"A man?" I suggested.

"One of our directors!"

"Oh."

"You'll have to put this right – and quick."

So no promotion just yet then.

Saturday 13

Thank goodness it's the weekend. November is not such a good month so far – things can only get better (I hope).

Showed Julie Ron's marriage certificate today. She thought it was sweet, and noticed that Venus had kept her own family name – which is what they do in China apparently. Then I said, "You know how good you are at Photoshop, Jules?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well, how easy would it be to make a slight alteration to this certificate, and print out a new one?"

"Oh, dead easy – scan it at high res, blow it up, make the changes and print a new colour copy. Sorted. Most people wouldn't notice the difference. Why? Is there a spelling error?"

Now it was time to cross the line.

"Well, you could say that... how would you feel about deleting their names and inserting, say, ours instead?"

"But we've got our own certificate... haven't we? You told me you went to the Government Office..."

This was the moment I'd been dreading. "Well... actually...." I decided to come clean and told Julie I didn't actually go to the Government Office – I'd made it all up about being married. I was fed up with Klaus coming on to her last Halloween, and wanted him to know he had no chance with her. I thought she was going to hit me, but instead she gave me a kiss.

"Oh! That was really nice babe. Don't worry, we can get married for real later – once you've killed that bastard Paulo. But for now, let's get going on Photoshop..."

Sunday 14

I wanted to be James Bond when I was younger – Double–O–Seven. Or if that wasn't possible, Double–O–Seven–point–five. All that secret agent stuff with the girls, guns, and fast cars. But now I feel like one of the criminals. Yesterday, we were forging documents, and tomorrow I'm expected to change a kid's exam grade – all because he didn't understand the questions and messed up. No – I'm not doing it: he's getting nothing more from me. Period.

Monday 15

How do you change ten percent into one hundred? Easy – you add nothing. Or zero, to be precise. Parent happy, Principal happy, principles happy.

Met Julie for lunch, and she told me she's got something welling up inside her and she needs to get it out. At first, I thought she was pregnant – but no: she's talking about her creative side. She said she wants to share her feelings, and she's written a piece for the Writers group meeting tonight. She gave me a sneak preview of her cheery little verse called 'Ruth':

RUTH, by Julie

When I die,

You're coming with me.

When I cry,

You're drowning too.

Rivers run,

No more fun,

Pregnant women cry.

Looking bleak,

Feel a freak,

Why, oh why, oh why?

When I laugh,

I'm feeling empty.

In the bath,

I'm drowning too.

Horses run,

No–ones won,

Nothing but the truth.

Feeling down,

Hit the town,

Change my name to Ruth.

She said she felt better after writing that. I said I felt worse. Apparently (according to Julie) that's just 'Ying and Yang' (a Punk band from Manchester who play songs to slit your wrists to).

I had to admit I didn't understand the last line. She explained that because she doesn't want to be ruthless, she must be Ruth. Makes some sort of sense. I asked her if she had a title, and she said, "Not really, Julie's fine". I said I really meant a name for the poem, and she said: 'The only way to true happiness it to make everyone else depressed.'

"It's a bit long," I said.

She suddenly looked at me with big, hungry eyes. "Let's have sex," she said.

So we did.

Tuesday 16

Unfortunately, ended up missing the Writers' group meeting last night because of Julie's earthy passions. Will try to make it next week.

Google was back at work today after visiting her sick Auntie in hospital, and I suddenly realised how much I'd missed her (Google, not the Auntie). "How was she?" I asked.

"She was fine," Google replied. "The funeral's on Saturday." I was confused.

"I thought you said she was fine?"

"Yes, she was – but now she's not. After I left the hospital yesterday, she died in her sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said sympathetically. "But at least that's the best way to go." (I think sympathy is one of my best characteristics.)

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"How do I know what?"

"How do you know that dying in your sleep is the best way to go?"

I thought about this for a minute. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? You're asleep, and then you don't wake up. It's a no brainer."

"Have you ever died in your sleep?" she asked. I shook my head. "Then you really don't know, do you Simon? Perhaps Auntie died during a really bad nightmare, which went on forever and ever and ever?"

I had to admit I'd never thought of it like that.

Anyway, I got Google up to speed with all the school gossip, and then she said, "Sammy in Admin told me you're married."

"Did she now? Well, yes... a bit married..."

"Mmm... interesting," she said, looking at me as if I was a lab monkey.

Did I say that I missed Google?

Wednesday 17

I returned Big Ron's marriage certificate today, and then took our 'copy' to Joey in HR. He made a note of the details, then remarked, "So, you and Julie were married on the same day as Ron and Venus?"

"Really?" I said, feigning surprise.

"Yeah... and even at the same government office! It's a pity about your housing allowance, though."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, your new allowance is an extra two thousand yuan per month – taking you up to five thousand. But you share that with Julie."

"What? So how much does she get?"

"Technically, nothing. She's your dependent now."

"So you're saying that before we received three thousand each, but now – because we're married – we get five thousand between us?"

"That's about the size of it, yeah."

I couldn't believe it – all that forgery for nothing! Well, less than nothing – now we get one thousand kwai less per month. But Joey had some comforting news.

"Hey, look at it this way: now you can have sex anytime you want, without pretending that you don't!"

Great.

When I told Julie about my conversation with Joey and the lower rent allowance, I thought she was going to hit the roof – but no. "Okay, no problem," she said as she tore through the packaging of a DVD.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes. All we have to do is get divorced."

I was stopped in my tracks.

"Divorced?"

"Yeah... it's only nine kwai, right?" Of all the words I could use to describe Julie, 'practical' would be pretty high up the list. "Okay babes?"

"O–kay... I said slowly, thinking through the implications, ramifications, pros–and–cons, positives–and–negatives, ups–and–downs. "Shall I see to that then?"

"That would be sweet," she said as she hit the play button on the DVD player.

Problem: how do you get divorced when you're not really married?

Thursday 18

Didn't sleep well last night. I was going through all the options for this divorce thing. Finally decided on a story, and went to see Joey again. It went a bit like this.

"Hi Joey."

"Hi Simon, what's up?"

"Oh, just a little marriage problem..."

"Tell me about it! I've been married for three years now, and it doesn't get any better. So what's the problem?"

"You know how in the West we can have dual nationality – like if my Dad was Portuguese, but I was born in England..."

"I didn't know you were Portuguese..."

"No, I'm not. It's just an example. But if, say, that was true I could have dual Nationality – British and Portuguese."

"Right, got you."

"Well, Julie has the idea that she could have a sort of dual–marriage nationality."

"Is she Portuguese?"

"No – but she did get married in Portugal last year."

"I see, I see. So she thought she could get married in China as well?"

"Right, that's it."

"Well, that's not a problem at all for foreigners – you can do that."

"We can?"

"Sure. There's no law against you and Julie having two marriage ceremonies in two different countries."

"Ah, well you see, the thing is that in Portugal she didn't exactly marry me..."

"Oh, right. Well, in that case, it's called bigamy – and if the government finds out, you'll both go to Prison. Anything else I can help you with?"

Friday 19

Told Julie that I'd got nowhere with Joey. She's quite a headstrong girl, as you may have guessed. Tried to tell her that phoning Paulo wouldn't do any good, but would she listen?

"Paulo?... yes, it's me... cut the crap will you? You know what I want... No, it's not that.... Yes, we did have some nice nights – but life isn't only about (whispers) 'sex'. You're with who now? Oh, fuck off Paulo."

This was going well, I thought.

"Look, I want a divorce (silence). Paulo, did you hear me? What! That's not funny... you bastard! Yeah, enjoy your life too."

She put down the receiver with finality. "Can you believe this guy?"

"Well, I did tell you it was a waste of time..."

"We're not married!"

"Yes, I know that Jules – you don't have to tell me that."

"No, I mean me and Paulo. It was all a set–up. Fake priest, fake ring, fake certificate... He said he does that with all the tourists he fancies... the bastard! Anyway, at least you don't have to kill him now... give me a kiss."

And so I did. I couldn't believe that anyone would actually fake a marriage certificate.

Saturday 20

Had a bad dream last night about being stuck on an escalator. I was in a department store with Julie and left her on the ground floor so I could look at the sportswear upstairs. Halfway up, I started feeling guilty about leaving Jules on her own, and started walking down the escalator (not an easy thing to do in real life, but this was a dream). Then a steel door came down – blocking my exit to the ground floor; so the only way was up. But before I could get to the top, another steel door on the first floor closed, and I was trapped. Then the whole escalator began closing in on me and I was going to be crushed to death! Woke up in a cold sweat, vowing to always take the stairs in future.

I told Julie about the dream in bed this morning, and she said, "We should have a party."

"What, because I had a bad dream?" I asked.

"No, we should have a party to celebrate me not being married to Paulo, but really married to you."

"But we're not really..." Whoa! Had to think this through.

"What?" she said.

"The others think we're married already... they don't know about the Paulo thing."

"It doesn't matter – we're just having a party to celebrate us being married. They don't have to know the details."

"Okay boss," I said.

I'd started saying that in a sort of sarcastic reverence after hearing Big Ron talk to Venus. She seemed to like it.

Anyway, although it was short notice to invite everyone for a party tonight, we thought it was now or never and invited our colleagues from school. But not Joey, as he might ask some difficult questions – and not Dr Wang, because she'd probably want to evaluate our party. In the end, Ron, Klaus, Sheila and Google said they'd love to come.

Sunday 21

Nice get together last night. Julie told everyone about Paulo's marriage scam, which they all thought was hilarious. Then I told them about my strange escalator dream. What did they think it meant?

"Did time seem to stand still?" asked Klaus.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I think it did Klaussie."

"Yah, it seems you were drawn across the event horizon of a black hole. The space–time continuum was frozen, and you were trapped in a discontinuity."

"Right," I said.

Sheila had a different take.

"What's he on about? It's dead simple Simon: you shouldn't leave that lovely wife of yours on her own – and you should drink more."

Big Ron disagreed.

"Nah, that's rubbish – both of you. Simon didn't get trapped because he left Julie – he got snared up because he went back for her. He should have gone straight to the sports section, got his Arsenal gear, and seen his lady later."

"But I don't support Arsenal," I said.

"Well, that's your second mistake. If you did, you'd never have put the girl before the team."

I was confused – so I found Google, and asked her about it.

"Are you really married, Simon?" she asked.

"'Course," I said defensively. "Why d'you say that?"

"Because Joey told me that you and Ron got married on the same day..."

"I'm definitely not married to Ron," I said.

"No, I mean... you married Julie, and Ron married Venus on the same day – October ninth."

"Right... what's wrong with that?"

"I remember you telling me that October the ninth was Julie's birthday, and you spent all day at the Expo."

My mouth opened and closed. Then I said, "Did I?" She nodded. "Well, perhaps we got married at the Expo..."

"But I thought you were married at the same place as Ron, and he got married at the government office near the school."

Was this the time to come clean? Could I trust Google?

"Can I trust you Google?" I said.

"You can trust me to be honest," she replied. Well, that will have to be good enough, I thought.

"No, Julie and I are not married – not really. She's got the ring, but that's all... we don't really know how to do it properly in China."

"Then the certificate's a fake?"

It was my time to nod.

"No problem Simon – I can help."

"You can?"

"Of course – it will be my pleasure."

So I never got my dream sorted out, but Google said she'd help with the marriage bit. Because of the cut in housing allowance, we didn't really want to be married; but before we could be single again we had to get divorced, and we couldn't do that until we were legally married. Such is life.

* * *

Good news! Received an email from Anton this morning saying that the Writers group is going to publish an anthology of our writings, and he's asking for submissions! So Julie and I spent the rest of the day putting pen to paper. I've never been published before (except for the time the Manchester Evening News printed a picture of me stuck in a drain whilst collecting samples for my microbiology course. It took three firemen to get me out). So, this is very exciting!

Monday 22

Couldn't concentrate on my teaching today – kept thinking about having my name in print for the first time. Unreal! Consequently, made thirteen mathematical mistakes on the blackboard today (three more than usual). Told my students I was going to be published. "In a mathematical journal?" they asked. They were so full of admiration for me that I didn't have the heart to say no. What harm can it do?

At the meeting tonight everyone was excited about the new anthology. Melissa contributed 'Confessions of a Nymphomaniac', Maddy gave us 'Mad about Syd', Anton brought 'A treatise on Ming Dynasty Philosophical Thought', and Toni showed us a painting. Maddy did wonder how a one by one–and–a–half metre painting would fit into a book, but Anton patiently explained how it would be photographed and reduced in size. Julie then offered her cheery poem 'Ruth' (see Monday 15 November). That left just me, and my contribution was Zero.

ZERO, by Simon Broom.

It's nothing, but only because of no.

It's orez, if you backward go.

It's my life, the sum and total, when I'm sad.

It's the start of a journey

From a rocket launch pad.

It's a round number, a whole number.

It's never positive, never negative;

But when the two combine,

They add up to zero every time.

"Marks out of ten?" I confidently asked the group. I wish I hadn't. I felt very let down – the only one to have a piece rejected for the anthology.

Then Julie said, "What about that thing you wrote on Saturday?"

"I didn't write anything on Saturday," I said. "We had the party, remember?" But she meant my poem called 'Saturday' (see Sunday 10 October).

"I thought you said that was crap?"

"That was then," she said.

So I got it out, and passed copies around. They thought it was great – so it's going in the anthology – hurrah! Of course, six pieces is not enough for the book, so we've all got to get busy writing for next meeting. Can't wait!

Tuesday 23

Must admit, I do like teaching maths. I think it's the essence of discovery I really enjoy. I start a problem on the board in class, and I've no idea if I'm going to get the right answer or not. Sometimes I'm completely lost, and the class help me out. They're so smart. I tell them that maths is not my strongest subject, and they always look so surprised. Great kids.

Julie's no good at maths – she told me so herself. Just as well I don't give her all my money. Big Ron's different – he's just a Biology teacher, and they can't do maths for toffee, so you can understand him giving all his dosh to Venus. Talking of couples, Google brought me a couple of forms today for me to fill out.

"Do you have any impediments?" she asked.

"Does Julie count?" I asked her.

"I've seen her count on her fingers," she said.

"No, I mean is Julie an impediment?" I asked.

"Only if you're married to her and want to marry someone else."

And then I got it. This was the certificate I was going to get from the Embassy two weeks ago so I could marry Julie.

"Ming buy," I said in Chinese.

"You want to buy some Ming?" she asked. I explained that I was saying 'I understood' in Chinese, and Google said my pronunciation was 'interesting'.

Wednesday 24

This morning Nigel from the Guidance Office asked me if I'd like to talk to the students tomorrow about Britain. He said they want to know what it's like to live and study in the UK, and Nigel thought I'd be the best person to talk to them – mainly because I'm British and I'm very popular with the students. That's nice.

Spent most of the day writing a few things down, and checking a few facts on the Internet. Sorted.

Wasn't sure about giving the CNI (certificate of no impediment) form to Julie just yet. No need to rush it – I'll surprise her one weekend.

Thursday 25

Gave my UK talk to the students today – think it went down very well indeed, once I got into my stride. Didn't need a script – just spoke off the cuff – and it went something like this:

"Hi kids – good to see you here. Today I'm going to tell you 'Everything you ever wanted to know about the UK, but were afraid to ask'." (Thought that might get a laugh, but must have got lost in translation.) "First things first: booze and sex. Yes, there's tons of that in the UK, and you're gonna have a ball. Pubs and clubs everywhere you go – and you can get pissed every night if you want to. But steady on – don't forget you're actually over there to study. So be sensible: get plastered at the weekend if you want, but just a couple of pints weekdays. Same goes for sex. Guys, you won't believe how much..."

At this point I received a hand–written note from Nigel, saying: 'Please talk about Study and Culture.' No worries. Just reliving my student days for a moment.

"Okay, now about your uni. There's an awful lot of choice in the UK – and some are truly awful. Oxford and Cambridge for starters. What! Full of stuffy, rich kids who can solve Einstein's Twin Paradox, but can't even tie their shoelaces! Forget it – go for the universities like Bolton, Coventry, and Keele."

Received another note from Nigel, saying: 'I went to Oxford!' Oops!

"Studying. Yes, I'm sorry, I know it's a pain, but you do have to do this at University. But don't go crazy about it – you don't want to get burn out. Pace yourselves. Go to some lectures if you must, but make sure you find a good mate – preferably a swatty one who always goes to every lecture, however deadly boring they are. He's your man (or woman). Actually, more likely to be a woman. Anyway, buy her coffees; take her out to dinner; a few little prezzies – anything to get her on your side. Then ask to borrow her notes – and copy them. Now, you're Chinese, so copying is no big deal – right?"

Nigel was now looking rather anxious, and started waving his finger in a circle – no idea why.

"Books. A waste of time. Your lecturer has done all that reading for you, so what's the point of doing it all over again? Just get his notes from your mate, copy them, learn them, and that's that. Now, I'm not going to tell you to cheat, but anything you can do to get that degree is vital – and I mean anything..."

Just then Nigel cut in, clapping his hands. "Well thank you Simon for such an illuminating and insightful talk about studying in the UK. Of course, the UK is only one option – and perhaps some students would prefer to study in America..."

Friday 26

Couldn't get off to sleep last night, had a lot on my mind. Tossing and turning for ages, which eventually woke Julie up. "Just let go," she said.

"Okay," I said, moving over to my side of the bed.

"No, not me – let go of your body."

Apparently Julie thinks we all leave our bodies every night. This worried me somewhat. What if she couldn't get back? What if someone else saw her body and thought, 'Mmm... that looks nice – I think I'll take that one.' This would of course explain Julie's erratic personality swings.

This did get me thinking about sleep and dreams though. Read an article recently which said we don't really sleep to rest our bodies – it's a rest for the mind, from our daily routines. Never did fully understand that escalator dream, but Julie said it just represented life's ups and downs.

Big Ron had another run–in with Dr Wang in the teachers' office at school today. Everyone heard the row – but no–one seemed to know what it was about. Took Ron for a drink after school to talk about it.

"Bollocks," he said sipping his pint as we watched Chelsea score a goal against Arsenal."

"So what was that all about, Ron?" I asked him.

"Terrible defending," he said.

"No, not the football – your tiff with Jessica today."

"Oh, that was all about sex."

"What, between you and her?"

"No! Sex lessons. I want to give them to the students, and she says they're not ready yet. Not ready! They're eighteen for god's sake!" He took another sip of his beer then said. "What age were you when you had your first sex lesson at school, Simon?"

I thought about this for a minute, then said "Twenty–three." Ron couldn't quite believe it. "It was my first teaching job, and only my second week in the school and I was packing up in the classroom after the last lesson of the day. All the kids had gone home, and one of the cleaners came in to tidy up. Fairly young, athletic type – not really pretty though. She said 'Hello', so I said 'Hello'. She smiled, so I smiled back. Then she said, "Would you like to have sex with me?"

"Really? She said that? What did you say?" asked Ron.

"What could I say? It wasn't like someone asking you out for a walk. Eventually I said, 'Er... thanks – but I've got a girlfriend."

"Did you?"

"No – I lied. So then she said, 'That doesn't stop Mr Jones.'"

"Who's Mr Jones?"

"A Geography teacher – who was married to Mrs Jones, the History teacher."

"In the same school?" I nodded, and Big Ron smiled. "And I guess Mrs Jones knew nothing."

I told Ron that I couldn't look at Mr or Mrs Jones in the same way after that. It did cross my mind that I could quite easily blackmail Mr Jones with this info, and get lots of dosh; but if it backfired I could be.

"You could be what?"

"Fired."

"That was a bit of an education," Ron admitted. "But it wasn't really sex lessons."

"Ah," I said, "well, the next day I thought, 'why not?'"

"You did it with her?"

"I did – and she taught me an awful lot."

"You dog!"

Saturday 27

Was going to give Julie her CNI form this morning – but there's no hurry.

Couldn't help thinking about Julie's idea of leaving her body – she really does seem like an alien being at times. Then I had an idea: I'll stay up all night and see if I can detect the moment she leaves her body, and when she comes back. This could be cutting–edge research in this field – I could be published in Scientific American, New Scientist or Nature. But what puzzles me is this: if we've got a life outside of our bodies, why bother coming back to this crappy planet?

Anyway, despite trying to stay awake, I just couldn't... and the next thing I knew it was morning and Julie was up.

At breakfast, she was very impressed with my open–minded attitude to her out–of–body stuff. "Oh, I do love you baby... you're really not as stupid as you look." I think that was a compliment. She reached over and gave me a big kiss. "By the way," she continued, in between mouthfuls of cornflakes, "did you ever get those CNI forms from the Consulate?"

"CNI?" I said dumbly.

"So we can get officially married."

"Oh, those CNI forms... yeah, well... they're here somewhere..."

"Brilliant – we can fill them in today!"

Why am I so scared of getting married? Is it because I'm afraid of losing my freedom? Or am I afraid of Julie?

Sunday 28

Wash–day. I seem to remember that when I was a kid, it was mum, not dad, who did all the cooking, washing and cleaning. So how come I'm doing it all now?

Gave dad a call today to see how he was. "Couldn't be better Simon – how's things with you?" He really sounded perky.

"Great! You sound good, dad – what have you been up to?"

"Oh, working on a new project, a bit of golf, rejoined the local Speakers' Club..."

"Wow, dad, that's fantastic! What's her name?"

"What's whose name Simon?"

"Your new project?"

"Ah! Well, that would be telling!"

"Yeah...?"

"It's Audrey."

"Wicked dad!"

"I don't think the Lord would see it like that... we're both divorced..."

"No, it's just an expression, dad. That's brilliant! Will you bring her over to Shanghai at Christmas?"

"Not this time... it'll be just me and Tara coming over to Shanghai."

Suddenly remembered that mum is arriving on the same day. This will need careful, logistical management – or we're stuffed.

Monday 29

My students asked me for the name of the mathematical journal – the one I'm going to be published in. Groan! I either had to come clean, or... 'Mathematics Today', I said.

"Which issue?" they asked.

"Er... December... but you won't be able to get it in Shanghai."

Of course, there had to be some bright spark who knew how to get a copy.

"It's okay, my father is going to America next month – he'll get one for me."

Met up with Klaus in the coffee bar after lunch to have a chat. "I hear you're being published in 'Mathematics Today' Simon – congratulations!"

"Oh not you as well! How did you hear that?"

"Your maths students are my physics students, remember?" I'd forgotten that. How did I get into this hole? "Well, what's your article on?" he asked. I thought quickly,

"Complex Subliminal Vector Integrals for Differentiated Topographical One–One Functions in a Null Space." (First thing to come into my head.)

"Interesting... I look forward to reading it."

"Oh, you wouldn't understand it," I said, clutching at very thin straws.

"I sink my mathematics is pretty sound, Simon. Why wouldn't I understand it?"

"It's in Chinese."

"No problem – I can get it translated."

"It's very old Chinese – very difficult to understand. Even Chinese people today can't fully grasp it."

"Then, why write in zat language?"

Checkmate.

"To tell the truth, Klaus, I haven't written an article in any mathematical journal – I'm being published in a writers' anthology. It's just a poem – but the students thought I was being published in a journal, and I didn't want to disappoint them."

Klaus nodded. "Why don't you just tell them the truth – I'm sure they'll understand. They will probably be very impressed zat you're being published as a creative writer."

"Really?"

"Sure – I'd love to be... tell me more about this Writers group..."

So I did – and he said he'd like to come to the next meeting. So how about that?

Tuesday 30

Last day of November! We've been here over three months now – who knows what the next three months will bring?

* * *
December

Wednesday 1

I don't get it – marriage that is. I love Julie, and she loves me. Isn't that enough? We're already living together – why do we need a piece of paper? So many marriages today end in divorce – just look at mum and dad. Give me a break. And I'm sorry, but I'm not ready for children. Julie says I'm just like a little boy at times – she even calls me baby. So she can dress me, take me for walks and even breast feed me, if that makes her happy (I draw the line at nappies though).

Met Sheila in the coffee bar today after lunch. She told me it was her birthday soon and was planning on doing something different. I was going to suggest 'staying sober', but thought she might hit me (she's bigger than I am). Then she told me a bit about her background – interesting. Four husbands and three divorces (the other one died in mysterious circumstances). "So, any children?" I asked.

"Eighty–five," she said.

I was going to reply, "No, I didn't ask your age," but restrained myself.

"Students," she clarified. "But kids of my own? Forget it."

"I know where you're coming from," I said.

"Brisbane," she replied.

"No, I mean... I'm not into having my own kids either," I explained.

"I know that ninety–nine percent of women want children... and I suppose that's expected if the human race is going to survive. But somehow, I've never wanted my own – it's enough to have them at work. I don't want to take them home with me as well."

Thursday 2

Weird, worrying dream last night. Julie suddenly appeared holding a pregnancy test, shouting, 'I'm pregnant!' She showed me the result. 'How can that be?' I said. 'I always wear a condom.' Which is true, except for the time Julie told me she'd just had her period and it was safe. (Did seem odd that it was only one week since her last one though.) 'I lied,' she said. 'Oh my god!' I screamed, 'I thought you liked children,' she said. 'Yes, other people's,' I said backing towards the door. 'Do you want me to get rid of the baby, Simon?' she said walking towards me with crazy, wild eyes. 'Do you want me to murder your child? Do you want blood on your hands?'

I woke up sweating, my heart pounding. That's the last time I'm drinking Red Bull.

Friday 3

End of another week. Today was a blur in many ways – partly because we all went out for a drink to celebrate Sheila's fifty–second year on the planet after school last night. As it was her birthday, she didn't have a single gin (they were all doubles). Had a good laugh, I seem to remember. Even Dr Wang came along for a bit, though we were all relieved when she left so we could let our hair down – all except Big Ron (bald as a billiard ball). Klaussie told us some German jokes, which were either lost in translation or deeply worrying. Having second thoughts about him joining the Writers' group now. Graham showed us all some magic tricks with 100 yuan notes. He said he could make them disappear – a trick that Julie's very good at too (usually with my cash). We were all impressed, until he started to walk away with our money. It took three people to get the notes out of his nose.

Anyway, we all went home happy (as far as I can recall).

Saturday 4

Woke up this morning with two things: a hangover, and Julie. Relieved about one, and not so happy about the other. Over breakfast, she told me that I had to change.

"What's wrong with these clothes?" I asked.

"Not your clothes – you."

"My clothes would be easier," I admitted.

"Yes, that's the problem. You're such a coward, Simon, you never confront anything. You want this cosy little world where life is nice to you all the time, and you hide as soon as anything becomes difficult."

I thought about this for a minute, and then said, "Well yeah..., you're probably right. Anyway, I've got to walk the dog now..."

"There you see – running away again! You're even uncomfortable talking about it. And you know we don't have a dog."

"Yeah, I know that," I admitted. "But if we did..."

"Then you'd still be a coward."

Julie was right – that was me down to a tee, and I had to grow up. It's true that I don't like facing things and always take the easy option. But not anymore.

Decided to get tough with myself: no shirking responsibility, no hiding away in dark corners. I'm going to confront life, confront people, and I don't care if they like me for it or not: no more Mr Nice Guy. Just then Julie interrupted my thoughts.

"Got to go out, Simon. Sorry about the BIG mess in the lounge – could you tidy it up for me please?"

"Okay Jules," I said.

Sunday 5

I started to read a self help book I picked up a while back from an airport somewhere. It was called, 'You can do it! Develop your mental strengths in ten easy lessons.' I flicked through the book first, and one part caught my interest. 'When a man defends himself, he becomes an idiot.' Thought about that for a moment, but couldn't see how it would apply to me. Still, the book looks like it's just what I need.

Monday 6

I discovered a startling fact whilst talking to Big Ron and Klaus after work today: they give out homework to their students without asking if they want it!

"Well, of course," said Ron. "D'you mean you actually ask your students if they'd like to have homework?" Ron said to me in utter disbelief. "You actually ask?"

"What me?" I said, back–pedalling fast, "Oh no, no way! I just heard that some people do that..."

"What type of people would that be?" Klaus asked. "Give me some names." I was really on the spot now.

"Oh, an old mate from teacher training college, for one... you wouldn't know him. He does it all the time."

"How do you know?" asked Ron.

"He told me."

"How did he tell you?" asked Klaus.

Christ, I was getting the third degree from both of them – what was going on?

"Look, what does it matter who he is, or how he told me. The fact is that it happened..."

"And you've never asked your students if they want homework?" Klaus asked.

"NO! What's the matter with you guys – why don't you believe me?"

Ron put down his drink. "Because, Simon mate, Klaus's students told him that you ask them if they want homework."

I'd better read that book.

Tuesday 7

It was the Writers' group meeting again last night. Klaus came along as promised, and even brought some stuff he'd been working on. He's a bit of a dark horse, is old Klaussie. He's a physics and maths teacher, and he can write as well. (Hopefully, not as well as me.) His piece was a short Sci–Fi story, entitled 'The Planet That Time Forgot'. Melissa, Maddy and Julie thought this was a great title. Klaus, who was obviously enjoying the female attention, gave us all copies – so I can tell you verbatim how it went (that's a new word I learned from Anton). To summarize, it was about an alien called Klontech who arrives on Earth via a black hole. Crashing into the Amazon Basin, he falls in love with a young Brazilian woman called Julita. I thought that with Klaus's physics background, there would be lots of references to science and technology. But no, it was all about their love affair. More physical than physics. Melissa particularly like it.

"What's his thingy like?" she asked.

"Thingy?" asked Klaus.

"Yeah, for having sex. He's an alien, so I thought you might describe that. Your readers would be interested... particularly if it's 'unusual'." The other women nodded eagerly.

"Oh, I see... yah, that's a good idea... thanks," said Klaus.

"What do you think babe?" Julie asked me. I wish she wouldn't call me that in public.

"Well, I liked the first couple of lines... and the last sentence was really, really good."

"You mean, '...and with a single whisper, they disappeared beyond the event horizon and were gone?'"

"Yeah, that bit."

"That was so sad," said Maddy.

"How about the other two thousand words?" Anton asked me.

"Well, the thing is... the title is 'The Planet that Time Forgot', but ninety–five percent of the story takes place on Earth." There was silence. Then Anton said,

"Good point Simon... Klaus?"

"Yah, I see – you're right! Thanks Simon."

Apparently, Julita was originally going to be an astronaut who got pulled into a Black Hole, and landed in Klontech's World. Time had no meaning there, so hence the title. I told Klaus I thought he had a good story, and should keep writing.

"Thank you Simon – I appreciate that. You really are a good friend."

Wednesday 8

It's my birthday! Told my class that seeing as it's my birthday today, I'm not going to give them the usual homework. They seemed very pleased, until I said, "I'm giving you extra homework. And from now on, anyone not doing the homework will have double homework next time, and if they don't do that, double what they didn't do before, and then double–double–double... in fact, a rapidly increasing infinite series of homework."

I think they've gone off me.

Because it's a week day, Julie suggested celebrating my birthday on Friday. Good idea. Wonder what she's bought me?

Thursday 9

Aren't my kids great! They gave me a card and a little present today. The card said 'Happy Birthday Teacher Simon', and was signed by them all. The present was a book, "Mathematics for Dummies".

After school, Julie asked me what it felt like being twenty–eight. I told her I didn't know. This seemed to annoy her somewhat.

"But you must know! Don't you have any feelings Simon? You should be embracing life, living and feeling every moment. I want to know – I've never been twenty–eight. But you're telling me that you have no feelings whatsoever about being that age? Why Simon, why?"

"I'm only twenty–seven. I'll be twenty–eight next year."

She didn't take that very well.

Friday 10

Apart from forgetting my age, Julie seems to have forgotten that we were going out tonight to celebrate my birthday. And she said she hasn't had time to buy me a present yet. Anyway, the guys at school have invited me out to the pub for a few drinks, and Julie said she'd follow later. She doesn't seem very happy with me at the moment for some reason.

Taught a bit of Trigonometry today. I told the students that it's easy to forget the sine, cosine and tangent formulae, and gave them a demonstration on how to get them wrong. Then we learned all about cosecant, secant and cotangent, and I really mixed those up. Glad they have a sense of humour.

Out on the town tonight!

Saturday 11

Never, never, never, never, never, ever again...

Sunday 12

After spending yesterday in bed with a BIG hangover, I remembered two things: (1) Julie did come to the pub, but spent the whole night talking to Graham and Klaus – and she didn't give me a present; (2) Graham told me he plays golf, and would love to have a game on Sunday – hurrah! I told him I'd brought my Mizuno clubs to China with me.

"Why?" he asked.

"So I can play golf," I said.

"But clubs are so cheap here," he said, "I picked up a full set of great Callaway's and a bag for under a hundred and fifty dollars."

"Wow!" I gasped.

"Of course, they're not originals," he went on, "but you'll never know the difference."

So we arranged to play at a course not far from the school in the afternoon. When I told Julie I was going to play golf, she said "What with?"

"You mean, 'Who with'," I said (she often makes these grammatical errors).

"No, I mean what with? How are you going to hit the ball?"

She's just like my mum at times...

"With those, of course!" I said, pointing at my golf bag in the corridor.

"With my underwear you mean?" she said.

Oops! Totally forgot we filled the bag with Julie's smalls.

"Mei wenti... Graham said I can pick up a set of clubs for a good price in Shanghai..."

"Come with me," she said, leading me to the bedroom by my belt.

"That's a really nice idea – I'd love to – but I've got to go..."

"Okay – but open this first."

In the corner of the room was a big box in red wrapping paper, with a black bow wrapped around it.

"For me?" I felt like a big kid.

"Open it then." Inside was a brand new set of golf clubs – irons, woods, putter – the whole caboodle. "Happy birthday babe."

"Xie Xie Jules – you're wonderful!"

"I know," she said.

Met Graham at the golf club. Never played golf in China before – and I was in for a surprise.

We were greeted by one of the club managers, a woman in her late twenties, who could speak some English. She showed us around the club house, and then pointed to some girls dressed in white and blue near the starter's office. "The girls are very good – they carry your clubs and clean your balls."

"Sounds good to me," Graham said, winking. Yes, for sixty–five yuan we had our personal caddies. "Wonder what else they can do for us?" Graham said with an evil smile as we walked to the first tee.

"Line up your putts?" I ventured.

"I mean after we've played the course," he said.

"Show us the driving range?"

"No, I mean, when we're done with golf."

"Got it," I said.

Graham's a bad boy – and he's also a pretty wicked golfer. But though his drives were big, they were usually accompanied by a loud shout of 'Fore!' Whilst we were waiting to tee–off at the twelfth, I discovered that he knows quite a bit of Chinese too.

"Nide dianhua haoma duo shao?" he said to his caddy. The girl nodded and wrote some numbers on his scorecard.

"Just asking my score so far," he said to me.

I thought I'd follow suit and used the same phrase. My caddy then wrote down the numbers 13501867424. I remembered getting a five, a six and seven, and a couple of fours; but the two hole–in–ones and the zero were slightly puzzling.

In the end I beat Graham by three holes – which meant he owed me thirty kwai.

"Put it on my tab would you buddy?" he said to me.

I wanted to say something appropriate, like "fuck off Graham," but I just said "Okay, no problem." He was preoccupied with his caddy anyway, and said he'd stay for a bit. So I left him and went home.

Monday 13

When I returned from playing golf yesterday, Julie told me that Toni had phoned to say her portrait was finished, and would we like to see it that evening? Well, of course. So he brought it round.

"Well, it's... it's... interesting." That's really all I could say when Toni unveiled his artwork in our apartment.

"A good likeness?" he asked.

I turned my head sideways and squinted. "Well... to be honest..."

"Toni!" exclaimed Julie, "You've got it upside down!"

Toni turned to look at the picture full on. "Ah, so I have – sorry!"

I didn't want to hurt Toni's feelings; but even when he turned it the right way, it still looked like a neurotic mermaid on speed. "What's happened to her legs?" I asked.

"I see Julie gliding through life, like a beautiful fish in the sea," he said, closing his eyes.

"Did you paint her picture that way?" I asked.

"You mean like a beautiful fish in the sea?" he replied.

"No, with your eyes closed."

"The Soul needs not human eyes to see," he said.

Personally, I see Julie like a fish out of water – but that's just me. "How did you manage to paint her breas...?"

"Toni's got a wonderful imagination," Julie cut in.

"Have I got them right?" asked Toni.

I looked closely. "Well, you've got the right number... yes, you've got them to a 'T'." I really wanted to say, "You've got them to a T.I.T.," but I restrained myself. "What will you do with the painting?" I asked, sipping my coffee.

"Well, Julie says she wants to buy it," Toni replied.

"Great!" I said. "Let me pay."

"Oh, thank you babe!" she said kissing me warmly on the lips.

"Duo shao qian?" (meaning 'how much money'. I like to show off my Chinese).

"Two thousand dollars," said Toni. My coffee went all over the floor.

"Dollars?" I exclaimed.

"Don't you think she's worth it Simon?" said Toni – really putting me on the spot.

Well, she is, I thought; but I wasn't so sure about this Jack–the–rip–off standing in front of me. But what could I do? I didn't want to pay two thousand dollars for a crappy portrait that a two–year old would have received a B–minus for. For one thing, it didn't even look like Julie (except for the breasts). But on the other hand, I didn't want to hurt his feelings (mistake!); and if I didn't buy it, Julie wouldn't talk to me for a month – and sex would definitely be out the window.

"Do you accept cheques?" I asked.

"Well, I..."

"How about rain–checks?" I added.

"Simon!" Julie exclaimed.

"Sorry, just joking. How about I give you the cash at the end of the month – after I've been paid?"

"No problem Simon – you're my friend..."

Hate to think how much he would squeeze the life out of his enemies.

After Toni had left, Julie and I looked at the painting again.

"Take your bra off," I instructed.

"I'm not wearing a bra..."

"Okay, take your top off then."

"Why?"

"I just want to check something."

Tuesday 14

Google came to see me today. She had some good news.

"Dr Wang would like you to help out at a recruitment fair tomorrow... are you free?" I felt honoured.

"Why me?"

"We're looking for a new mathematics teacher for next term, and Dr Wang needs an experienced maths teacher to interview candidates. Klaus is not available, so you're the nearest thing we've got."

"Great – who else is going?"

"Just the two of us."

How do I recognise a good maths teacher?

Wednesday 15

Google met me at home so we could go to the Recruitment Fair together. I was about to call a taxi, but she said there was no need. "I've got my bike," she said. And there it was, her brand new scooter – or e–bike as they call them here – right next to my apartment. A beautiful red machine, with her name in gold letters on the side.

"Where's your helmet?" I asked.

"What's that?"

"I said, where's your helmet?"

"I heard it...what's a helmet?"

"To protect your head – if you fall off... or if I fall off."

"Oh, no need... just don't fall off."

After a hair–raising ride through the streets of Shanghai, where bikes share the same lanes as buses, we arrived at the Fair. It was nice to spend some quality time with Google, and nice to meet some real teachers. Nothing against old Ron, Sheila or Klaussie... but I do wonder about the others. Anyway, got straight into the recruiting stuff as soon as I arrived at the gig, which was a nice downtown hotel. (I seem to be saying 'nice' rather a lot.) Decided to dress up for it (you have to impress don't you?) and wore my best jeans and trainers instead of the old ones.

The first candidate was Paul from England. He was currently working at an expat school in some back–water town (Bangkok, I think he said) and wanted to go to a big city and teach Chinese kids.

"Hey, how yer doing? I'm Simon."

"Very pleased to meet you Simon – I'm Paul."

"Good to see you mate. Okay, so let's get rocking. Tell me, why d'you want to teach in our school?"

"Well, I really want to teach top notch students, and I've heard that you've got some of the very best maths students at your school."

"Too right, Paulie. These guys are red–hot when it comes to numbers. They've taught me a lot already."

"Really? They're that good?" Old Paul was impressed straightaway. I think I must be born for interviewing.

"Are you kidding me? These guys would give Einstein a run for his money. I have to tell you, though, culturally they're a long way behind British kids. They know nothing about getting pissed, doing drugs, lesbian sex or S&M. Christ, they've never even been arrested. Talk about a sheltered life."

"I see, I see."

"So I spend a lot of my time filling them in on those areas... no need to teach them very much maths at all... though it is my job, of course. I find the best way is to combine culture with mathematics."

"In what way?"

"Well, for example, finding the mean and standard deviation of drug–related crimes in the Manchester area. Or plotting cumulative frequency diagrams of the spread of prostitution in Cardiff against that in London."

Paul looked rather pale at this stage. Perhaps a little jet–lagged after his trip from Bangkok. "Are you alright Paul?"

"Yes, yes thank you," he said getting up from his chair and backing out quickly. "I've just remembered that I've got two other schools to talk to this morning, and I don't want to be late..."

Seemed like a nice kid.

Google came over to see me mid–morning with a cup of coffee.

"How's it going Simon?"

"Not bad – sorting the wheat from the chaff at the moment."

"What's the meaning?"

"Well, you essentially have two types of teachers: the good, strong, experienced and enthusiastic ones – they're the wheat; and the crap, weak, pathetic, boring ones – they're the chaff."

"Which one are you, Simon?" she asked.

I thought about this for a moment. "Well, I have to be honest... I think I'm more chaff–like than wheat–like."

"I think so too," said Google.

She's such a nice girl.

Over lunch, I asked Google if she'd found a boyfriend yet.

"No, still looking," she said as she played with her noodles.

"I can help," I said quietly.

"Thanks Simon, but you're really not my type..."

"No, I mean I'll help you find one."

"Really?"

"Mei wenti. Just give me your specifications, and I'll do my best."

"Okay, well, taller than me... a few years older than me... quite beautiful."

"You mean handsome?"

"Yes, quite handsome... but not perfect. And good conversation. He must be someone I can talk to – and good listener."

I nodded as I made notes. "Does he have to be Chinese?"

"No... in fact, I'd prefer foreigner – better chance to travel abroad."

"Good thinking. Anything else?"

"Well" she looked side–to–side to see if anyone was listening. "He must be good in bed."

"Well, naturally. Okay, leave it with me Google... oh, one more thing," I pulled out my mobile phone. "Smile!" Got a nice photo of her.

My first candidate after lunch was David from Texas, USA.

"Hi, you must be David."

"That's right sir."

I studied his CV for a moment. "Well, you've got the right sort of qualifications, Dave, and your age is just about right. Do you mind standing for a moment?"

He looked puzzled (as I would be). I looked him up and down, nodded, and made a couple of notes (he was very tall).

"Are we done?" he asked.

"Thanks, you can sit down now – I was just checking your height..."

"Is that important in your school?" he asked with slight disbelief.

"Oh sure – we can't have the teachers smaller than the students."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, they'd look down on you – and that's not good."

"I see."

Then I pulled out my mobile phone. "What do you think of this young woman?"

He looked closely at the screen. "She's very pretty, sir."

"Yes, she is isn't she? How would you like to take her out?"

"Excuse me?"

"On a date." He hesitated. "This is very important, David – it's the difference between getting this job, and not getting it."

"I see... well... when is she free?"

"Good man. Thank you so much for your time David – we'll let you know tomorrow about the job." I stood up to show the interview was over. "Oh, one more thing Dave – do you have a girlfriend?"

"Well, actually..."

"You may have to dump her."

Thursday 16

Jin tian bu hao. Not a good day.

In retrospect, I thought it went pretty well at the job fair yesterday. However, Dr Wang was not at all pleased when she saw David's CV.

"But he's only an NQT!" she said. I thought perhaps this meant 'not quite twenty'.

"Actually, he's twenty–three," I replied.

"Exactly – he's no experience!"

"He's got a girlfriend..." I said defensively.

"I mean teaching experience! He's a newly–qualified teacher." (So that's what it means.) "Has he signed the contract?" she asked.

"Er... no."

"Then you'll have to get rid of him." She said, folding her arms. She always does that when something's very final.

"You mean kill him?" I asked.

"No! Tell him he's not got the job."

It would be easier to kill him.

Klaus covered my lessons for me whilst I was at the job fair, and I had a surprise reaction from my group three students.

"So, how did your lessons go with Mr Beckenbauer yesterday?" I asked. They were very quiet. "Yes, I know he's not a real maths teacher, but it can't have been that bad." Then one student said,

"Actually, Simon, we really liked Mr Beckenbauer. He's very good at maths, and he didn't make any mistake on the board."

"Oh, I see." I was hurt. I hadn't realised how important it was to have a teacher who was really good at maths. So I tried to teach them as best as I could that afternoon, and only made four mistakes (a record for me). No–one said another word the whole lesson, and the atmosphere was very sad. I think I'll give up teaching.

Friday 17

I love teaching! I received an amazing card from my students today – a beautiful Chinese card in red and gold. Inside it said, 'Simon, we know you are not good at maths, but you are our favourite teacher. You tell funny story and make us laugh. Please do not be sad. Love, Class G3.'

Later I phoned David, the American Maths teacher I recruited on Wednesday. Told him I was very sorry, but on reflection we could not employ him at our school. "Was it my height?" he asked. "Yes, that's right," I said.

Just one week to Christmas!

Saturday 18

Was hoping for a lie–in this morning, but Mum phoned at 7am (11pm in the UK). She wanted to confirm that she'd be arriving at Pudong airport with Donald on Thursday twenty–third. Later that morning, received an email from Dad to say he'd be arriving the same day with Tara! This will take careful planning.

I asked Julie what her dad would be doing for Christmas.

"Time," she said.

I'd forgotten that her father was still in prison. "How about your mum?" I asked.

"Probably out clubbing Christmas Eve, and getting laid Christmas Day."

I was relieved to see that Julie's red and green hair colour had just about grown out, leaving her beautiful blond locks.

"You're not at all like your mum," I observed. "Well – not in looks anyway."

I said I'll meet Mum and Donald at the airport at 5.20pm on Thursday, as arranged, and Julie will meet and greet Dad and Tara at 7.40pm. I'll take Mum and Don back to our place, whilst Julie takes Dad and Tara on a trip to Xi'an (historic former capital of China).

Sunday 19

This being our last weekend together before the family arrives, Julie and I decided to spend some quality time together. We bought a nice bottle of red wine, and curled up on the sofa to watch a couple of old movies ('Meet the Parents' and 'The Parent Trap'). Quite worrying.

"Why can't we choose our own parents?" I asked Julie.

"We do," she said.

"Then why did we make such crap choices?" I exclaimed.

"Karma," she replied.

"Sorry. Why did we make such crap choices?" I whispered.

"No, Karma – what goes around, comes around."

"Like a virus?" I said.

"Yeah, something like that."

I'm not sure what planet she's from, but it's definitely not Earth.

Monday 20

I heard a cry from the bathroom this morning. "Ow, ow, ow! Si–mon!"

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've got toothpaste in my eye!"

"Aren't you supposed to put it in your mouth?" I said, splashing water into her face. Apparently she was squeezing the tube, and some toothpaste spurted up into her eye. "Must be Karma," I said with a grin. She looked at the tube quizzically.

"Is that a Chinese brand?"

"No, I mean what we were talking about last night – what goes around, comes around."

"You mean I deserved this?" she said in her teacher voice.

"I guess so... ow!" she hit me on the head with the toothpaste. "What was that for?"

"Karma," she said.

Our last week at school before Christmas! The students have been practising for their Christmas party, and they've asked us teachers to do a party piece. Can't wait! My students also asked me if I'm going home for Christmas. I told them that I feel this is my home now. Then they asked if I'm going to become a Chinese citizen.

"Is that possible?" I asked.

"Ni neng shuo zhongwen ma?" they asked.

"Sorry, don't understand," I said.

"Then no, not possible."

Tuesday 21

Interesting Writers' meeting last night. Maddy read another chapter of her book, 'Love at first Height'. Apparently, Maddy fell for Syd at the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge (fortunately, he just managed to catch her). The girls thought this was very romantic – Melissa was particularly into the story. "And when did you two first do it?" she asked. Seemingly, Syd took her on a moonlight cruise a few days later, and it all happened then.

Toni and I couldn't get our heads round this romantic stuff, so we went down to the bar for a quick pint.

"Girls, eh!" he said.

"Know what you mean," I replied.

"Have you put Julie's the painting up yet?" Toni asked.

"Oh right, yeah. It's in the lounge. We did have it in the bedroom, but it started to affect our lovemaking. I couldn't help thinking I was having sex with a big fish."

"You're a lucky guy, y'know, Simon."

"What, for having sex with a big fish?"

"No, for being with Julie... she's such a beautiful girl. You're so lucky to be married to her."

"Thanks."

Course, I'd forgotten about all this marriage stuff. Maybe Julie will forget too – hopefully. Anyway, everyone thinks we're married – so what's the difference? Dunno what I'm going to say to Mum and Dad though.

Back upstairs, Anton had just begun reading an article about the collapse of the Ottoman Empire. It was a bit of a blur after the drink (we had two pints each in the end). But y'know, despite not always understanding all this writing stuff, I feel a kindred spirit with writers. I feel at home. Maths is maybe food for the mind, but writing is food for the Soul. I'm a deeper person that I think (when I'm drunk).

That was our last Writers group meeting until January 10th.

Wednesday 22

Made a big decision today: decided to sign up for Chinese lessons in Shanghai. Told Julie when I got home, and asked if she'd like to join too. "Nah, I'm no good at Chinese," she said.

"I know – that's the idea of lessons," I replied. She shook her head.

"I can't even say 'Knee how' properly."

"My knees are fine thanks," I joked (Julie really likes my sense of humour).

"Oh fuck off Simon." I knew what that meant.

What's up with Julie? I'll have to talk to Mum again.

Thursday 23

The kids have been practising for the Christmas Show, and no–one was really interested in maths today. "What are you going to sing Simon?" they asked.

"Oh, something I've made up," I said.

"You written a song?" They couldn't believe I had a creative streak – they were dead impressed.

Actually, I was going to sing, 'Sex and Drugs and Rock N' Roll'. Clive, who was organising the Christmas Show, asked me for the words – so I wrote them down for him. He said I might consider changing them – for the students' and parents' benefit. I thought for a moment, and then said, "Okay, thanks for the suggestion Clivey, but actually I really like the original lyric – and I think the students will too. It's all part of their education." He went away with a copy of the words, and a deep frown.

Clive later told me he'd shown the lyric to Dr Wang, and she said it was either a case of changing the words or changing my job. Which one did I choose? I never did like the original words.

Rice and fish and hot–dog roll

Is all my brain and body needs.

Rice and fish and hot–dog roll

Is very nice indeed.

The show went well. The kids were great – and everyone had a really nice time. Some people said my song made them feel hungry. Julie said she liked the rice and fish part, but not the hot–dog. Google said she didn't know I could sing – and she still wasn't sure.

All us overseas teachers are on holiday now – hurrah! Got to go and meet Mum and Donald from the airport this evening. Julie's meeting Dad and Tara

Friday 24

Touch and go at the airport last night. Mum's flight came in two hours late, which meant they landed just ten minutes before Dad's! Fortunately, managed to keep them from seeing each other. Julie took Dad and Tara to a hotel, and I took Mum and Donald home in a taxi. Don's a funny old bloke. Travelled everywhere, it seems, and nothing's new to him. "Ah, this reminds me of the time I was in Gyeonggi–do province, South Korea, a few years ago," he would say. Or, "Did I tell you about the time I wrestled a python with my bare hands in Cambodia?" Don't know how mum puts up with him – must be love or something.

Got a phone call from Julie to say she was on the plane to Xi'an with Dad and Tara, and they'd be taking off soon. Said she really likes my dad – he's very much like me – only funnier, better looking, and more intelligent. Mmm...

Took Don and Mum downtown and looked around Yuyuan Garden. Apparently, the gardens are four hundred and fifty years old. "Oh Simon – this is beautiful! This is the real China, not that conglomeration of skyscrapers we saw yesterday. Why did they ever want to build such monstrosities?"

"It's competition, Lillian," replied Don. "Man's eternal quest to be bigger, better, richer, newer... did I ever tell you of the time I visited the Petronas twin towers in Kuala Lumpur?"

"Oh, there's a tea house!" Mum exclaimed, changing the subject. So we all had Chinese tea, with little snacks – including Robin's eggs! Urghhh! Don't know what Julie would have said.

Saturday 25 – Christmas Day!

Day off from blogging.

Sunday 26

Oh my head! Donald may be a bit of a pain, but he knows how to drink whisky (he bought a bottle at the duty free on his way here). Wake me up when it's Monday.

Monday 27

Got over my hangover and took Mum and Don on a boat trip along the Huangpu River in Shanghai today. So cold! Anyway, nice views of the buildings of old colonial Shanghai. Mum said it reminded her of the North of England; but I didn't see anyone drugged up to their eyeballs, mugged, raped or run–over – so I'd have to disagree.

Phoned Julie, and heard that they'd enjoyed seeing the Terracotta Warriors in Xi'an yesterday. Well, Dad and Julie did – Tara was more interested in the young Chinese security guards. "Your sister's fatter than I remember," said Julie.

"Where is she fatter?" I asked.

"In Xi'an," Julie replied.

"No, I mean – what part of her body?"

"Her belly."

Uh–oh... I think I know what that means.

Dad and Tara are due back in Shanghai tomorrow.

Once we were home, I managed to convince Mum and Don to go on a trip away from Shanghai tomorrow. "I've always wanted to go to Qingdao," Donald said. "Any chance of that Simon?"

"You mean you've never been there Don?" Mum said with feigned surprise. Seemingly not.

"What do you know about Qingdao?" I asked Ron. This was a BIG mistake.

"Oh, not much really. All I know is that it's a major city in eastern Shandong Province, lying across the Shandong Peninsula. It borders Yantai to the northeast, Weifang to the west and Rizhao to the southeast. Qingdao is a major seaport, naval base and industrial centre. It's also the site of the famous Tsingtao Brewery. The word 'qīng' in Chinese means 'green' or 'lush', whilst 'dǎo' means 'island'. In 2009, Qingdao was named China's most livable city..."

"Right – thanks Don," I said; but he was now in full–flow.

"In 1891 the Qing government decided to make the area a defense base against naval attack, and began to improve Qingdao's existing fortifications. German naval officials observed this activity during a survey of Jaiozhou Bay in May 1897. Subsequently, German troops seized and occupied the fortification. China conceded the area to Germany the following year, and the Kiautschou Bay Concession, as it became known, existed from 1898 to 1914."

"Don, you're a mine of info..." I started, but I couldn't stop him now.

"Commercial interests established the Germania Brewery in 1903, which later became the world–famous Tsingtao Brewery. German influence extended to other areas of Shandong Province, including the establishment of diverse commercial enterprises. The city reverted to Chinese rule in December, 1922, under control of the Republic of China. However, Japan re–occupied Qingdao in 1938, with its plans of territorial expansion onto China's coast. In June 1949 the Red Army entered Qingdao, and the city and province have been under China's control ever since."

What can you say?

Tuesday 28

I don't think I can stand much more of Donald – he's like a walking Encyclopedia. I don't know how Mum can prefer him over Dad. It's also no fun having Mum here either – I feel like a little kid again. However, it was good to be able to talk to her about Julie today.

"So, when are you two getting married?" she asked.

"I... I dunno... there's no rush. Why do we have to get married?"

"Well, you don't of course. In this modern age, it's not fashionable anymore. And it always seems to end in divorce when people do tie the knot, so I'm not going to push you in that direction. Anyway, I'm not the blueprint for a happy marriage – far from it. Don't get me wrong, I do still love your father – but people grow apart. You change as a person, and different things become important. I woke up one day, and realised that I couldn't stay married to your Dad. The things that drew us together had evaporated, and we'd nothing in common any more. The fun and life had gone out of our marriage – and I needed them back. Despite what you think of Donald, he's a very different person when we're on our own. He desperately wants you to accept him, and he's only trying to impress – too hard perhaps."

"The thing is," I said, "Julie does want to get married."

"Does she? Or does she just want children, and thinks you need to be married to have them?"

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Well, I don't think you do need to marry – but you'll have to talk to her about that. But I have to say, I'd like some grandchildren."

"Just place your order," I joked.

"Two boys and a girl," she said.

Wednesday 29

Spent the morning looking around the old Qingdao Brewery, and then walked along the beach for a while. Couldn't help noticing the couples having their wedding photographs taken near the water. All the girls wore beautiful white dresses, and I wondered what Julie would think.

Had a nice meal in a Seafood Restaurant near the Olympic Aquatic Centre in the evening. You choose your food (some of it still living) and they cook it for you. Nice – but I couldn't look the crabs in the eye. Donald told us some jokes, which seemed very funny over a couple of glasses of wine.

Whilst I was a little drunk, I phoned Julie to see how she was getting on with Dad and Tara.

"Hi Baby, how's things in the big city?" I said.

"I miss you," she replied. "When are you coming home?"

"Back in Shanghai tomorrow. Is Dad okay?"

"Yeah, he's sweet. I think he fancies me..."

"What!

"See you."

I knew there was something else to say to Julie, but just couldn't put my finger on it. It'll come back to me tomorrow – hopefully.

Thursday 30

On the flight home, I was relieved that Donald told me nothing about our airplane: when it was built, who built it, seating and engine capacity, how many flights it'd done. Mum must have talked to him. He's not so bad after all. He did offer to look at my teeth free of charge, and asked how my work was going. Yes, I could get to like him – but he'll never replace Dad.

Speaking of which, I couldn't get the thought of Dad fancying Julie out of my mind all day.

Friday 31 New Year's Eve!

In the taxi from the airport, I asked Mum what she'd say to Dad if she met him now. "Oh, I'd probably say 'sorry'. I shouldn't have just walked out like that, it wasn't right. And I'd tell him that I do still love him, despite everything. You can love two people at the same time, can't you Simon?"

"Yes, of course you can Mum. I love you, and Dad, and Julie... Mei Wenti."

"Who's May Wenty?"

We arrived home at our apartment, and I went in first.

"Got a little surprise for you Julie," I said. I let Mum and Donald in.

"Simon! What?" Julie exclaimed.

"Julie! How nice – Simon told me you were away," Mum said.

"Yeah I was – but..."

Suddenly, Dad appeared in the lounge. "Lillian?"

"Frank?"

Julie and I escaped to our bedroom. "Will that be like us when we're their age?" I asked.

"Shit, I hope not," she said.

* * *
January

Saturday 1

It's two a.m., and just got to bed. That was quite a night, bringing in the New Year, and saying good riddance to the old. It was nice to see Mum, Dad and Tara together again. Lots of crying (mostly Dad), and Mum gave Tara a hard time at first for the 'lump' – essentially because Mum asked her who was responsible for it, and Tara said she wasn't sure. She later confirmed that it was either McDonalds or KFC. (She's not pregnant at all, just fat.) But she had a good talk with Julie, who has (I must admit), quite a tasty figure since she became a Pescetarian, and Tara's going to try the same diet. In fact, Tara said she really likes Shanghai and will come back during the school holidays – on her own next time.

Donald was very quiet at first, keeping a low profile and letting the family laugh, cry, fight, reminisce and do what families do. Then Dad asked Don about Qingdao, and they were soon chatting away, over a few drams of whisky.

So, a New Year for us all. I wonder what it will bring?

Sunday 2

Julie and I took Mum and Donald, Dad and Tara to the airport yesterday afternoon. Although it was nice having them here, it was a big relief when they all went. Now we can get back to a normal life. Well, the life that's normal to us.

Monday 3

Back at school today – and I have to say it was good to get stuck into work again. My kids were great: they all remembered who I was, and after my lesson they told me my maths was as good as it's always been. So that's nice.

Dr Wang said we've got more students joining the school after the Chinese New Year holiday. Great!

Met up with Ron and Klaus at lunchtime and asked them how their holidays went. Klaus said he spent most of his holiday reading Physics books, and Ron said he was hoping to go away somewhere for a break, but the 'Boss' (Venus) withheld the funds. "Got to save up for an apartment," he said. She's really got him into family life now... whatever's next – kids?

Tuesday 4

Last night in bed, I asked Julie if she was still recording our conversations. She looked at me as if I'd asked if she was still female, then confirmed that she was (recording our conversations, that is). "But only when the laptop's in the room," she added.

"How about when we're making love?" I asked.

"Definitely then," she smiled. "But only the sound."

She showed me where all her recordings were on her computer, which she'd kept in folders labelled 'Blogging' and 'Snogging'.

I played back a recording of our love–making. "That doesn't sound like me," I observed. "You're listening to my voice," she said. Then I heard mine: I sounded like a donkey. Listening to this, I wondered why people did it – have sex I mean. Hearing the screams (Julie) and sighs (me), without feeling the passion now, seemed... strange.

"Sorry I don't have the video," she said. Then her eyes lit up. "Yes, let's do it Simon!" she said sitting up suddenly. "Let's make a video!"

"What, of us... having sex... now?"

"Yes!" She pulled her camcorder from a drawer.

"Make sure you get my best side," I said.

"Okay," she replied, switching on the camera. "And let's not use a condom," she added. I was speechless. "Let's make a baby, baby... I want to have a baby with you."

"But we're not really married, and you said..."

"It doesn't matter – everyone thinks we are, and I've got the ring, and you love me. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

What could I say? I smiled and said quietly, "Anything for you baby."

"Oh, Simon, you're wonderful!" She grabbed me, and kissed me.

So we made love, whilst Julie held both me and the camera. The way she insisted on applying make–up, and then smiled into the camera whilst we were doing it was a bit off–putting, I have to say. Don't think I'd like to be a porn star.

When we'd finished, I asked her if she preferred a boy or a girl. She thought for a minute, and then said, "It would depend on who the father was."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if he was a bit of a moron, I'd prefer a girl. But if he was a cool, handsome guy, with great charm and charisma – then I've want a boy."

"So... if you and I had a baby?"

"Got to be a girl," she said.

Wednesday 5

What was I thinking? What was I thinking! But what could I say? (I could have said 'No'!) But it's done now. And anyway, she might not get pregnant. She might be sterile, or I might be infertile (or is it the other way around?) And even if she does get pregnant, we can abort it. And even if we don't abort it, we can give it away. And even if we don't give it away, she can do all the work looking after it. Sorted.

Very cold today – looking forward to getting away for Chinese New Year. We've got over three weeks off, and Julie wants to go to Sanya, Hainan Island (one of her mature students recommended it). Apparently, it's the most southerly part of China – and even when it's below freezing in Shanghai, it stays around twenty–five Celsius in Sanya. Whoppee! When I told Ron about it, he was already clued in.

"Oh, sure – I took Venus there after we got married. Fabulous place – it's China's answer to the resorts in Thailand or Hawaii." He gave me a business card. "This is the hotel we stayed at in Yalong Bay. Not cheap – but worth it for that special holiday. You and Julie would like it – particularly now you're married, eh?"

He doesn't know half of it.

Thursday 6

Calamity! Dr Wang called me into her office today. "I'm sorry, Simon, we've got to let you go."

"Go where?" I asked.

"I mean, we can't extend your contract for another year – I'm sorry. We'll give you a good reference, of course."

I didn't know what to say at first. Then I said, "Can I take my students with me?" Dr Wang looked confused. "What, you mean all seventy–five of them?"

"Yeah."

"It doesn't work like that Simon."

I felt very sad after that. I told my students, and they were sad too."

"But you can't go, Simon... we like you."

"Thanks guys," I said, "but I've got to move on. I'm sure you'll get a good teacher next year. Perhaps Mr Beckenbauer will teach you maths – he's good." They didn't disagree with that. Then they said, "But you makes us laugh more."

Told Julie about my conversation with Dr Wang when I got home. Expected her to be sad too.

"Brilliant!" she said. "We can go somewhere else – maybe Hong Kong, Singapore or even Thailand! The weather's so crap here... d'you know it snowed today?"

"You hum it and I'll play it," I said, trying to be jovial.

"You travel all this way from home, and the weather's just as shit. Can't wait to go somewhere with a decent climate."

That's why I like Julie. We spent the rest of the evening studying a map of the World and fantasising about our next adventure together. (Managed to talk her out of Afghanistan, Iraq and North Korea.) In the end, we agreed not to decide now – it's only the beginning of January. Then, as we were putting the map away, Julie said, "Hey, I had a mate at college who went to one of these International Job Fairs and got a teaching job there."

"Like the one in Shanghai?" I asked.

"Yeah – they have them all over the World – America, UK, Australia... let's have a look."

We Googled 'International Job Fairs' and found a few companies who specialise in finding teachers international teaching positions. Great! There were fairs coming up in Hong Kong, Bangkok, London, Cambridge, San Francisco and Toronto. Some were during our holiday.

"Let's go to Toronto," Julie said.

That's my Julie – she says she wants to go somewhere hot like Thailand, and then she suggests a place where the temperature can reach minus twenty–five degrees Celsius!

"You do realise that Toronto is colder than Shanghai," I said.

"You're so fussy, Simon. Just a little bit of cold and snow, and you go to pieces."

Clearly, Julie's strange twin sister had just taken over her body. "Play back the tape," I said.

"You know I don't use tape..."

"The hard disc recording then."

I found the part I wanted: '...can't wait to go somewhere with a decent climate.' "How do you plead?" I asked with a smirk. Got her this time.

"I was talking about a place to live, Simon. We're only going to Toronto for a three day Job Fair. We don't have to actually work in Canada."

Fair point.

Friday 7

Felt very bright and cheery today. I have to say that the idea of a new job in a new country is very exciting. Thought I'd chat to Ron and Sheila about their other teaching jobs over lunch.

"Yeah, I've worked abroad a few times," admitted Ron. "Kuwait, Kenya, Thailand... and now China. Wouldn't go back to teach in the UK now. Why d'you ask?"

"Oh, just thinking of options..."

"You've been sacked, haven't you Simon?" said Sheila, smirking.

"What me? No no no... in fact, Dr Wang's offered me an extended contract. Julie and me were just thinking of somewhere warmer next year, that's all."

"Know what you mean," said Ron. "After where I've been, the winter here's a killer. So where d'you fancy?"

"Oh, I don't know – Hong Kong or Singapore perhaps, or even Thailand."

"At least you can have a decent drink in those places without anyone labelling you as an alcoholic," Sheila pointed out. "Not that I drink very much..." We all nodded soberly. "I can give you the names of a few schools in Hong Kong if you're interested," she added.

I thanked Sheila and Ron, and went back to the office. Food for thought. Still couldn't understand why Julie wants to go to the Toronto job fair instead of Hong Kong or Bangkok. It's over thirteen hours on the plane to Toronto, but less than five to Bangkok – and only two–and a half to Hong Kong. Must talk to her about that tomorrow... so tired now.

Saturday 8

Got it. Julie's cousin Stephanie lives in Toronto. Mad as a hatter, but gets on well with Julie.

"Why didn't you tell me about Stephanie?" I asked.

"I thought you didn't like her."

"Well, I only met her once," I said. "She just seemed a bit crazy, that's all."

"We don't have to stay with her – we can book a room at the hotel where they're holding the Fair."

"That's better – I don't mind paying for the hotel... and it'll be dead convenient for the Job Fair." I'm not one of those penny–pinching guys who don't like forking out for a hotel. Deep pockets and short arms, and all that. "How much are the rooms?" I asked.

"Two hundred dollars a night."

Actually, I quite liked Steph when we met in London.

Sunday 9

Julie phoned Stephanie today and, by the sound of the conversation, she's looking forward to seeing us. Well, seeing Julie anyway. Meanwhile, I registered with the Job Fair, and booked our flights to Toronto. Stephanie said we could stay for as long as we liked, so we decided to spend a week over there. Can't wait!

Monday 10

Despite me making a balls up of the last maths exam, Dr Wang asked me to set the end of term examination paper. Perhaps she feels a bit bad after not hiring me for another year. So she should. "But please, use a bit of common sense this time Simon," she said. I've heard of common sense, I'm sure I have...

Tuesday 11

Writers' group meeting last night. Anton asked for suggestions for new name for our group, and we said we'd think about it. Toni brought his latest painting, which looked partly like a crab, partly like an elephant and partly like Melissa. I didn't like to ask what it was meant to be. "What do you think?" he asked. Everyone was quiet for a moment, and then I said, "I like the colours."

"It's all blue," pointed out Anton.

"Yeah, I like blue," I said.

"What d'you think, Julie?" Toni asked.

"It's cool," she said. "What's it called?"

"Evolution," replied Toni. We all nodded. Melissa was smiling.

"I think it's got my eyes," she said.

Then Anton spoke, "I like the art – very much – but I cannot concur with the theory."

"What theory is that?" Maddy asked.

"The Theory of Evolution," he said. Then Maddy had an idea.

"Hey guys, that could be our topic for next meeting... we can all write a piece on the Theory of Evolution."

I'd heard of that theory – but for the life of me I couldn't think what it was. And I didn't want to ask in case they made a monkey out of me. Then Julie read her second travel piece, inspired by her visit to Xi'an to see the terracotta warriors with Dad and Tara.

Warriors of Mud, by Julie Bucket.

An army of mud,

Sorted and sifted, then carefully lifted.

Figures made, artisans paid.

Buried for centuries, never to be found.

Then by chance unearthed from the ground.

Terracotta, what a lotta men;

Each one different, but

Made of the same clay.

Unearthed by a farmer in a field one day.

An army of mud

Guarding the tomb of Emperor Qin;

Who can begin to imagine

The treasure laid within.

Xi'an is history – the story of humankind

As thousands are lined

In military rows – waiting for you to see.

The army of mud,

Terracotta clay,

That one day

Will live again.

"It will?" I asked. "They'll come back to life you mean?"

"Artists' licence," Julie replied.

I wonder where I can get one of those licenses?

Wednesday 12

Can't help thinking how much I'm enjoying my life in Shanghai. Living in a vibrant, modern city, in a country with a long and colourful past, and teaching in an excellent international school (until July anyway). Also, member of a creative writers group, and I've got a beautiful girlfriend. What more could I want in life? Well, recognition for one thing.

Dr Wang wasn't very happy with me today. It was the deadline for submitting the exam papers to the Academic Affairs Office, and I hadn't even started mine. Shouldn't take long though, I thought, and I was right. Dr Wang was actually very pleased with my paper.

"Simon, that's excellent...very good indeed. Challenging for some, but containing easier questions for others. No–one will perform very badly, and the better students can do really well. Have you got the answers?"

"Oh, yeah – sure," I lied. "Can I get them to you first thing tomorrow morning? I've got to meet someone now..."

"Yes, no problem... thanks for your good work."

I couldn't tell her that I got the questions off the internet, of course, and there were no answers. Thought that wouldn't be a problem though – just go through the paper and work out the solutions myself.

Question 1 looked quite easy, but Question 2... hmmm... Question 3 was a tricky bastard. Question 4... good question! No idea how to solve it. Question 5... ah, got it – no worries. I think. Question 6... I was never good at Integration. Question 7, Polynomials (aren't they natives of some Pacific islands?) Question 8, Sequences and Series. 'Prove that the sum of an arithmetic series is ½n(2a + (n–1)d).' I'm sure they can do that one. Question 9... they're getting harder. Question 10... I think I'd better phone Troy.

Troy is a wiz at Maths – best student in the school. If he can't get every question right, no–one can. So called him and arranged to meet at Starbucks near the school. "Now, what I'm going to tell you, Troy, is very, very, very, very, very, very confidential – got it?"

"Sure, Simon. You can trust me."

"Great." I looked around to see if anyone was watching. "Here is the end term maths exam paper..."

His eyes lit up, "I see..." He scanned the paper.

"Now I know you'll get one hundred percent correct in this exam, Troy, so I'm going to ask you to give me the solutions to all the questions – okay?"

"No problem – how long I got?"

"One hour enough?" He nodded. I bought the coffees and watched him scribble the answers on the paper I provided. I envy kids like him, answering maths questions like he's breathing fresh air. But to be a good maths teacher, you don't actually have to be good at maths. It's like football managers. Some of the best in the World were never great footballers. After fifty–five minutes, I had all the answers, neatly written out. Sorted.

Thursday 13

Handed a copy of the exam answers to Dr Wang (rewritten in my own hand, of course). She seemed very pleased. "I've been thinking again about next year, Simon. There may be a position for you at the school in September after all – if you're still interested."

"I've been looking at a few other possibilities," I said, "but nothing definite yet, so thanks." Dr Wang isn't so bad after all.

Told Julie about the maths exam when I got home. She seemed to like me for it. "Oh, you bad boy!" She kissed me passionately. "Let's go to bed..."

"But I might get fired for this..."

"What, for having sex?"

"No, for getting questions from the net, and giving the exam paper to a student." She ignored this and began to undo my belt.

"So what if she fires you – you've lost your job already!"

I didn't tell her about Dr Wang's new offer, and gave in to Julie's passions.

Friday 14

Being the last teaching day before the exams next week, school finished early, and I went for dinner with Klaus, Ron, Sheila, and Hamish.

"Glad the term's nearly over Hamish?" I asked.

"O coorse, a hiv t' say, a'm leukin' forrit tae the halidays."

"And what are you going to do?"

"A'm gaein t' git plaistered at hame."

"He means he's going to get very drunk at home," said Sheila. I don't blame him."

"And how about you?" I asked her.

"Getting very drunk you mean?"

"No–no," (that was a given), "are you going home, or staying in China?"

"Oh, probably stay here and do a bit of sight–seeing – haven't seen much of China yet."

"Sounds good," I said. I haven't seen much of it myself.

"You should try Harbin," chipped in Ron. "Beautiful in the winter – bloody cold though."

"You've been there then Ron?" I asked.

"Sure – it's where Venus comes from. We're going back at Chinese New Year to visit her folks. It's minus nine degree Celsius there at the moment – minus twenty–one at night. Toronto's probably going to be similar."

For a moment I'd forgotten about our trip to the Job Fair in Canada. Dr Wang's offer of a place at the school next year had made my job–seeking not so urgent. My thoughts were interrupted by Klaus.

"You'll find another job, Simon, don't worry." he said. "You are good wiz zer students – better than me really – and your teaching methods are... 'different.'" I thanked him, and then he said: "Are you interested in Astronomy?"

"Well, when I was fourteen my dad bought me a telescope..."

"Oh really? And did you observe any heavenly bodies?" he asked.

"I did watch Jennifer Jones getting undressed a couple of times – and she was pretty heavenly." But that wasn't exactly what Klaus had in mind.

"I mean, did you observe ze planets or ze moon?" I had to admit that I didn't – Jennifer was as far as I got.

"I think I've discovered sumzing much more interesting zan Jennifer Jones," he said. I found that hard to believe, but I let him continue. "Have you ever looked really carefully at the moon?" I shook my head.

"Is it really made of cheese?" I asked, sipping my beer.

Klaus ignored my banal remark and said, "Why do we only see one side of the Moon?" I thought about this for a bit, but no inspiration came my way.

"Sorry Klaussie – I don't know mate. You'll have to ask someone else."

"Think about it. If ze Moon revolves around the Earth, wouldn't we one day see the other side?" He pulled a tennis ball out of his pocket and did a demonstration, with the ball as the Moon and my head as the Earth. "You see? We are told zat the rotational period of the Moon on its axis, exactly matches the rotational period ze Moon around ze Earth... zat is the only way astronomers can explain what we see in ze sky. Now look at zis..."

He wrote some figures on a bit of paper. Axial rotation of the moon, 27.321622 days; orbital rotation, 27.321622 days." If these figures were different by just a fraction of a second, we would eventually see the complete Moon – both sides."

"But we don't – right?" I said.

"No, we don't. Quite amazing, don't you think?"

"Well, yeah," I said, "But even if the chance of it happening like this is ten billion to one, there's still the one chance. So it's not impossible."

"Right," said Klaus, "That's what I used to think, until I realised..."

As the alcohol kicked in, the rest of what Klaus said was bit of a blur. But I'd heard enough to be a little perturbed by it. Was Klaus saying that the Moon doesn't actually revolve around the Earth? When I got home, I talked this over with Julie.

"It's a conspiracy," she said.

"How so?" I asked.

"Science is the new religion, and religions don't want you to think for yourself: they want to take over your mind, and make you into some sort of compliant zombie. Could you run down the shop and buy some more DVDs please babe? There's a good boy."

Saturday 15

Searched the internet for information on the Moon, but couldn't find anything to contradict what Klaus said last night. I know he seems a bit of an anorak at times, but I think he's got his head screwed on right. Dug out my Apollo 13 video and watched that with Julie in the afternoon. Couldn't understand why they ran with the number thirteen knowing it could be unlucky. Very glad to see that Tom Hanks survived in the end, because he's a good actor – and I'd like to see him again in another movie.

Julie suggested we play golf tomorrow. When I said it's going to be freezing cold, she said I was a bit of a wus at times, and it would be good training for Canada. She could be right – but I don't fancy playing with frosty balls.

Sunday 16

Took our clubs down to City Golf Club in Shanghai – same place I played with Graham a few weeks ago. But Julie's reaction to the caddies was somewhat different.

"They carry your clubs for you – it's their job," I said.

"Get lost... I'll carry my own..."

"But it's the rules..."

"I don't care – I'm not paying her to carry anything of mine. And she's not going anywhere near your balls."

In the end one of the managers (Mr Zhang) came to see what the commotion was about. I explained the situation, and Mr Zhang said, "Well, how about Long Li," he said introducing one of the Chinese waiters from the restaurant. "Can he carry your clubs for you Miss Julie?"

Julie's expression turned from a scowl to a smile in less than a second.

"Oh, all right – go on then."

I don't what it is with Julie and waiters, but Long Li kept her happy for the entire eighteen holes.

Monday 17 to Thursday 20

End of Term Exams! The great thing about exams is that there's no teaching; the downside is 'Invigilation', as they call it. A couple of hours doing nothing except watch the students work hard at their exam papers. Before the exams began, Dr Wang got all us teachers together to go over the procedure.

"For those of you new to invigilating examinations, these are the rules. For the students: no talking, or any contact with other students; no unauthorised materials in the exam room; read and follow the instructions on the exam papers before the exam begins. When the examination is over, they must stop writing immediately and put their pens and pencils down. For the invigilators, you must pay full attention to the students. No reading, writing, or marking homework. Nothing except watching."

"Is breathing allowed?" asked Ron.

"Of course, you must breath," replied Dr Wang.

"How about thinking?" he said.

"If you must."

Unfortunately, Dr Wang completely forgot to mention sleeping – which, I have to say, I did during the Chemistry exam this morning. Well, it was so boring and I was pretty tired after the golf yesterday. But I don't think anyone noticed me nod off.

On Tuesday morning it was the maths exam, and I was obviously hoping my kids would do well. Got the papers in the afternoon and Klaus and I starting marking them.

"Simon – is Troy is one of your students?"

"Yeah, bright kid," I said.

"Looks like he's got ninety–eight percent – good score!"

I was taken aback. How could he have only got ninety–eight percent? What did this mean? "Let me see that..."

"Sure. See – he only dropped two marks on question five."

Either the answer Troy gave me in Starbucks was wrong, or he'd just forgotten the answer on the day. Panic!

"Look, er... could you double–check the answer for me Klaus?" I said.

"Is there a problem?"

"It's just that I know this kid, and it's unlike him to get this sort of question wrong."

"Okay, sure."

Klaus scribbled away for a few minutes, and then announced that the solution on the answer sheet was spot on: Troy was wrong.

Later, I saw Troy and asked him about question five.

"Oh, I know I didn't do well with that question Simon... sorry."

"But you knew the answer?"

"Sure, but I thought it be better if I didn't get all questions right – just in case."

Smart kid.

On Wednesday, Sheila came to see me about the Chemistry exam. She'd completed the marking and had a question. "Simon, you invigilated the first Chemistry paper, didn't you?" I confirmed that I did. "Did you happen to notice any contact between David Zhu and Tommy Ji during the exam?" I thought for a moment.

"No, everything seemed in order – the exam went like a dream... why do you ask?"

"Well, David and Tommy were sitting near to each other, and their answers are all the same – every question. They've even made exactly the same mistakes."

"I suppose that can happen, I said."

"No no, not like this. I'll have to see Jessica. David usually scores around sixty percent in Chemistry, and his score has suddenly moved up to eighty–five percent."

How long was I asleep, I wondered?

Thursday. Emailed the maths results to Dr Wang, and she was very pleased (all my students scored more than eighty percent). She also said she'd reconsidered my recommendation for the new maths teacher next term, and is happy to hire David Gillespie from Texas (Google should be pleased). So the term is ending on a high.

Friday 21

Last day at school before the holidays– hurrah!

Finished school early, and went for a meal with all the teachers. "Well, here's to the end of a profitable and enjoyable term," said Graham, raising his glass and toasting everyone, "Ganbei."He downed his glass of wine in one, showing the customary empty glass to everyone, and we all followed suit.

Our glasses were topped up by the waitress, and Sheila immediately said "I'll drink to that – Ganbei," and emptied her glass. Hard to follow that, but Hamish did.

"Och, that's a leddy's drink..." He filled his empty glass with Baijiu (Chinese spirit, fifty–six percent proof alcohol), shouted "Slangevar," and downed it in one. Sheila smiled and did the same. Whilst the two were hitting the bottle, I talked to Ron.

"So, how's the family Ron?"

"Don't talk to me about families," he said bitterly. "That's all I hear from Venus now. She's only twenty–five and she wants a baby already – don't know what the hurry's about."

"Know what you mean," I said.

"What – Julie's wants a kid as well?"

"Yeah... seems crazy to me. She's only twenty–four."

"Christ! No wonder the World's over–populated. No disrespect to Julie, but how on Earth can a twenty–four year old girl bring up and educate a kid? When I was that age I was still a kid myself. No, child rearing should be done by people in their late forties and fifties – people who've been around and know what life's about – that's what I say. Not that Venus or Julie shouldn't have kids – don't get me wrong. Girls are sexually mature any time from ten to sixteen years of age – so that's the time to start having sex. And if children result from it, clearly kids that age are not mature enough to bring them up – so give them to the grandparents."

I had to admit that what Ron said made sense. "My mum is always saying she wants grandchildren – she loves babies, and she'd make a much better job than Julie."

"There you are then – sorted," he said.

"The only thing is, Julie wants a baby to keep – not just to give away to mum."

"Yeah, and you know why?" asked Ron.

"No?"

"She wants a baby to play with!"

"What? You mean all she wants is a toy?"

"Got it in one," he said.

Saturday 22 – Sunday 23

Couldn't help thinking about my conversation with Ron as Julie and I started packing for our trip to Canada – and it gave me an idea. Made an excuse about needing to see Klaus, and came home with a big package for Julie. She was so excited!

"Is that for me?" she said.

"Sure is babe. Take a look."

She ripped open the package as if her life depended on it.

"It's a baby, baby!"

I nodded my head, smirking. "I'm glad you recognise it."

"It's so... life–like... can you feed it?" she asked.

"You certainly can. You can feed it with a bottle, change its nappy, and even make it cry." You should have seen her face!

Ron was right.

Monday 24

No Writers meeting tonight because of the holidays. Julie spent a long time deciding whether or not to take her baby to Canada. When I eventually told her we'd have to pay for an extra seat if she took it on the plane, that seemed to make up her mind. "But who's going to look after her while we're away?" she asked. I told her that I'd ask Google to do that.

Tuesday 25

Still packing. A few disagreements about how cold it's going to be in Toronto, and therefore how many warm clothes to take. Eventually, Julie suggested I sit in the refrigerator to gauge the coldness of sub–zero temperatures. I said that was ridiculous – I'd never fit in; but we could put the baby inside instead, and see how much frost it accumulates. She didn't like that at all. "Sometimes Simon, you're the cruellest guy in the whole world," she said.

Wednesday 26 – Thursday 27

We left Shanghai Pudong airport at 5.45pm today bound for Toronto. As the plane took off from the airport, Julie asked me what time we'd arrive at our destination. I checked the schedule and said, "Six–fifteen pm."

"What, today?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Brilliant!" she said. "I thought it was going to be a long flight!"

I tried to explain about the International Date Line and time zones, but she didn't quite get it. She was quiet for a while, then said,

"If we could fly ten percent faster, we'd actually arrive before we took off – right?" I scribbled some numbers down, and then confirmed that this was correct. "Great!" she said, "We're in a frigging time–machine!"

She did want to ask the pilot to go faster, but I managed to talk her out of it.

Funny thing when you're flying long distance. You just sit there, apparently not going anywhere, but actually you're travelling at over five hundred miles an hour relative to the ground. And as the Earth is spinning at a thousand miles per hour around its axis, you could be moving at a speed of 1,500 miles an hour. But this is nothing to the speed of the Earth around the sun – which is 67,000 miles per hour! Wanted to tell Julie this, but thought it might freak her out.

Dozed for a while, watched movies, ate food at strange times of day, talked to Julie about the future, dozed off again, ate more food, and eventually landed at Pearson International Airport at 6.20pm on Wednesday. Outside, there was thick snow, and it looked pretty cold.

We collected our luggage from the carousel, and followed the exit signs. On the other side, there was Stephanie, in a thick black coat, a red scarf and a big smile behind glossy red lipstick. She was shorter than I remembered, but just as lively.

"Julie! Fab to see you!" she shouted. Heads turned, expecting to see some celebrity. 'Fab?' I thought.

"You remember Simon?" Julie replied.

"Simon – how could I forget! You're shorter than I remember."

"I've been taking shrinking pills," I jested.

"Really? Those Chinese can do anything. Anyway, follow me – I've got the car outside."

We drove to her apartment through the snow–lined streets of Toronto, passing some elegant skyscrapers soaring into the evening sky. Nice, but relatively small compared to Shanghai.

"Must take you to the Tower," Steph said as she drove.

"Why – what have we done wrong?" I joked (thinking of the Tower of London). But she was talking about the Toronto CN Tower – the tallest free–standing structure in the Western Hemisphere.

"Is he always like this?" she asked Julie.

"No, sometimes he's funny," she said.

Despite the cold outside, it was very warm in Stephanie's spacious apartment. Steph showed us the spare room, where we dropped our bags off, and I used the bathroom.

"So, no man in your life at the moment, Steph?" Julie asked, thinking I couldn't hear them talk. But I've got ears like a hawk (or is that ears like a vulture?)

"Oh, I've been dating a bit, but no–one special. Still looking."

"Quite right – shop around for the right guy," said Julie.

"Simon seems quite cute," observed Steph.

"Yeah, well... wait till you get to know him..." laughter.

I joined them in the lounge.

"Well, I guess you guys are tired after that long flight..." said Steph.

"Oh, we're fine," Julie replied, without asking me.

"Okay, let's party!" That's the Stephanie I remember.

Don't know how Julie could do it. My body clock said I'd been up for over twenty–four hours, but Julie's seem to say 'rock around the clock'. Anyway, they dragged me off to Malone's bar for a drink, and that's all I remember. The next thing I knew I was waking up in my new bed, focussing on Julie.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eleven–thirty."

"a.m. or p.m.?"

"In the morning – you've been asleep for over twelve hours."

"Oh..." I was a bit disorientated. "How did I get here?"

"Steph drove us home, then we put you to bed."

"We? Who undressed me?" I asked (a bit concerned).

"We both did." She smiled. "Breakfast's ready."

I got dressed, and wandered along to the lounge.

"If you want bacon, you'll have to kill your own pig," Steph shouted from the kitchen. Apparently, she's a bit of a vegetarian.

"Okay, where's the gun?" I joked.

"I don't have a gun, you'll have to use the kitchen knife," she said.

"Sure," I replied, going towards the kitchen drawer. I found the biggest knife I could and went outside. "Jeezus!" And I thought it was cold yesterday.

"Minus thirteen today, Simon," Julie informed me with a smile.

Cereal and toast it was then. Not that I'd really kill a pig...

In the afternoon, Steph took us up the famous CN Tower. According to the guidebook, the tower is five hundred and fifty–three metres tall, which ranks it as the second tallest tower in the World. Fantastic view from the top. On one level, there's a glass floor, which I wouldn't walk on – to the derision of the girls, who happily walked on it, lay on it, and Steph even jumped up and down on it. Told you she was crazy.

Friday 28

First day of the Recruitment Fair. Julie and I registered with the organisers, and then attended a boring meeting where the weekend's programme was outlined and discussed. Got the details of over thirty international schools attending the Fair, which I studied with Julie (well, I studied the info and she looked at the pictures). There were schools from China, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Egypt and Dubai – amongst others. Tomorrow morning we meet the recruiters and sign up for interviews – hurrah!

Returned to Steph's around five, and she cooked us a nice meal – after which she took us to a Jazz & Blues bar, not far from where she lived. The place was quiet at first, but soon got going.

"Do you like Blues, Simon?" she asked.

"To be honest, I prefer Reds," I replied.

"Really? Well, I can take you to a Reds bar later," she said. "And tomorrow, we'll go to a Greens restaurant... you should always have your greens."

I'd forgotten about Steph's colourful language.

Saturday 29

Signed up for six interviews today for schools in China, Thailand, Malaysia, Dubai and Turkey. All the interviews took place in the recruiters' hotel bedrooms, and my first was with Dr Mike Thompson, Principal of an International school in Hangzhou, China.

"Good to meet you Simon – take a seat. I shook his hand and sat down. "Actually, I think it would be more convenient to sit over there," he said. I got off the bed, and moved to the chair next opposite him. "I see that you're currently working at Shanghai International College in China – a very good school. Actually, I know Jessica Wang very well. Do you know where our school is?"

"In Hangzhou?" I ventured.

"Well, yes – I suppose the name 'Hangzhou International School' may have given that away. And why are you interested in teaching in Hangzhou?"

At this point, I realised I wasn't really prepared for this interview.

"I need a job," I said lamely.

"Right... I guessed that. I mean, why do you want to move away from Shanghai – is it too big, too noisy, too crowded, too polluted, or what?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Doctor Thompson," I was struggling now.

"No, I mean, why specifically do you want to move away from Shanghai and work in Hangzhou?"

I was stumped. Then inspiration hit me: I remembered something I heard on television. "Marco Polo said that Hangzhou was 'Heaven on Earth'."

"True," Mike said, nodding. "But that was some seven hundred years ago... Hangzhou has changed considerably since then." There was a pause, and then he said, "Tell me about your current position?"

"My job you mean?"

"Yes."

"Well, I teach A–level Maths to Chinese students who want to go to universities in the West."

"I see..."

"And they're red hot – particularly the girls..."

"What?"

"At mathematics. Better than me really, but they seem to like me as a teacher; they don't want me to leave."

"Well, that's a good sign. And what do you think you could bring to our school?"

"I'd like to bring my girlfriend..."

"No, I mean – what sort of skills, teaching methodologies, new ideas..."

"Oh, I see... well, I know a lot about the UK... and I could educate the students about British Culture and lifestyle, as well as mathematics."

At this point, I thought it wise not to mention my insight into the UK's club and drug scene. I think that this sort of consideration is one of my strongest traits.

"Good, good – that's definitely something we need in Hangzhou. Sixty percent of our students go on to study at UK universities. Do you have any questions you'd like to ask me, Simon?"

I thought for a moment. I really hadn't prepared any questions, so I just said the first thing that came into my head.

"What are the pubs like in Hangzhou?"

Got a feeling that I might have bombed that one.

My second interview was with the Ravipreevan International College in Bangkok, Thailand, and I was met by Brad Schmidt, the school's American Academic Director. I was a bit more prepared this time.

"Hi Simon – come on in and take a seat." I have to say that I felt much more relaxed for this interview having got one under my belt earlier. "So tell me, have you ever been to Thailand?"

"Well, they had a branch near my home town in England, and I often went there to buy shirts and ties."

He looked puzzled, and then said, "Oh, Tieland! Hey, you're a funny guy! Apart from ties, what do you expect to find in Bangkok?"

"Oh, hotels, shops, offices, schools, roads, cars, motorbikes, people, pollution, food..."

"Okay, okay – I mean, culturally. How different from China do you think it will be?"

I thought carefully, looking for an intelligent answer. I was sure there was one – I just had to give a well–considered, educated response.

"More laid back?" I ventured.

"Sure is. And I think you've hit the nail on the head, Simon. Maybe it's the influence of their Buddhists beliefs, maybe it's the heat – but life at our school is definitely at a more relaxed pace than you're used to in Shanghai." Then he studied his notes. "I see you've got a partner, Julie Bucket, who's also looking for a teaching job." I nodded. "Well, that's great – we have a possible vacancy for her too." I smiled. Then he said, "Are there any questions you'd like to ask me?"

I looked down at my own notes. Didn't want to make the same mistake as last time. "Okay," I said. "How many students can I expect in my classes? What is the average age of the students? What type of schools are they sourced from? Do they have to take an entrance exam? If so, what it the pass mark? What percentage are borders? What is the male–female ratio? What are their annual tuition fees? What are the ethnic backgrounds of the teachers? How many periods will I teach per week? What is the length of each period? What holidays do I get per year? What is my monthly salary? What housing allowance can I expect to receive? What airfare do you pay? Will you help me find an apartment, open a bank account, get a mobile phone, and meet me at the airport?

Brad was speechless for a moment – then he said, "Er... I'll let you know."

Anyway, that seemed to go pretty well. The other interviews were good too, and by the end of the day I had two definite offers – one from Brad's school and the other from a school in Turkey.

Had dinner with Julie in the hotel after the interviews and compared notes. She'd also had offers from the same schools in Thailand and Turkey, plus an offer from a British International School in Vietnam. It had been a long day, and with more interviews tomorrow, we had relaxing night at Stephanie's watching 'Confessions of a School Teacher' on the sofa.

Sunday 30

Really into this recruitment fair stuff now. I had three more interviews today, and the first was with the British School in Vietnam which offered Julie a job yesterday. I was interviewed by David Craig, head of HR at the school.

"Tell me about a memorable lesson of yours," he said after we'd gone through the formalities.

I thought for a bit, and then said, "It was just before Christmas. The kids were in a great mood, and we were all having fun. Then the teacher said: 'Let's all go for a run around the track!' It was freezing cold, with ice everywhere, and we thought he was bonkers – but we all did it anyway. Afterwards, I was sorry for Janet Smith when she broke her leg, but at the time we all thought she was just having a laugh, and pretending to be in agony (she was always a bit of an attention seeker). Kicking her to get her on her feet was probably not the best thing to do in retrospect."

"Actually, I meant a memorable lesson of yours as a teacher."

"Oh, I see..." I thought again for a few minutes, but nothing came to mind. Then David said,

"What do you like about teaching?"

Good question, I thought. What do I like about it? Was it the kids, the other staff, or the subject? Then I said, "I think I like being an entertainer."

He looked over his reading glasses and smiled. "Simon, I'd like to offer you a job at our school."

Couldn't believe I'd passed the interview based on that performance! I later discovered they really wanted Julie, and thought if they offered me a job, that might swing it for her too. So I could have said any old rubbish...

Met up with Julie at lunchtime and had a bite to eat and a natter. I thought I'd done pretty well with three offers under my belt, but she'd done better still.

"Five!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah – but I'm not really keen on the job in Dubai."

"How so – it's hot there, isn't it? Pretty much wall to wall sunshine, from what I've heard."

"Right – and imagine me dressed from head to toe in black in all that heat. No thanks. You'd only see my eyes, and you could take anyone home to bed thinking it was me." I tried to explain that it was only the Muslim women who dressed like that – and even they didn't wear the Burka in bed. But Julie wasn't listening, so I changed the subject.

"How d'you feel about Turkey?" I asked.

"You know I don't eat meat, Simon, so why ask?"

"I mean..."

In the evening there was a joint candidates' and recruiters' cheese and wine reception in the hotel Ballroom. A good chance to meet each other socially, and perhaps seal deals. "So, Simon, Julie," Brad Schmidt said as he wandered over to talk to us, "I meant to tell you earlier that there's a married couple's allowance built in to our teacher's package..."

"Thanks, but were not actually..." I started to say, as Julie stood on my left foot.

"What's that Simon?" he said.

"Oh, we're not actually sure about Thailand..."

"That's okay – but just to let you know, as a married couple you would receive fifteen hundred dollars per month between you, instead of four hundred and fifty each."

Julie smiled at me. "Thanks Brad," I said.

"No problem. Anyway, think about it and let me know ASAP. And don't forget about our wonderful weather... you take care now."

"He seems a nice guy," I said to Julie after Brad had gone.

"Yeah, they all seem nice now we've got other offers. Bloody crawlers..."

Monday 31

Last night, Steph took us out for a meal downtown, it being our last night in Canada. Had a nice time, and we invited her to visit us in Shanghai whenever she gets time off from Prison (she works at the local Toronto Jail). What is it about Julie's family and prisons? Anyway, said our goodbyes in the morning after she drove us to the airport. It will be nice to be home.

* * *

February

Tuesday 1

On the flight back, it was good to have a serious chat with Julie. "Do you ever miss home?" I asked her.

"Yeah, sometimes I do," she replied.

"Me too... especially my old mates, and mum and dad of course. And football. What d'you miss about the UK?"

"That's not my home – not my real home anyway."

I was taken aback. "I thought you were born in England? Your parents are British, aren't they?"

"Yeah... but this is not my planet."

"It's not?"

"Simon, you may not understand this, but my Soul does not belong here. I've been born into an Earthly body, but that's my only connection with this planet. Life is a short journey on the path to the Evolution of the Soul. We're visitors here, Simon, experiencing life through our bodies – bodies which we inhabit when we're born, then relinquish at death."

"Then... where are we when we're not here – when we're not in a body... when we die?"

"Nothing really dies... it just changes form. The body goes back into the Earth, and we rejoin the Universal Soul – and go home." She closed her eyes.

I was mesmerised. Was I talking to Julie or the Dalai Lama? I wanted to ask what it's like when we 'go home', but Julie was asleep, or in the astral plane, or she'd just left her body. Do they have satellite TV up there, I wondered?

Wednesday 2

Had a long sleep last night after arriving home in Shanghai, and didn't wake until eleven. After breakfast, I did our washing, some cleaning and cooking, and Julie watched season four of 'Prison Break'. Whilst I was in the kitchen, she shouted to me: "Simon, I think I've got Jet–leg."

"You mean Jet–lag," I said. For an English teacher, she can be pretty ignorant about our language at times.

"No, Jet–leg... my feet and ankles have swollen up – I can't get my shoes on."

"Oh, I see... try these." I gave her a pair of my shoes.

"Yeah, they're better. What size are they?"

"Forty–two."

"Shit, my feet must be really swollen – I only take size five."

Was this the same Guru–type person I talked to yesterday?

Anyway, it's Chinese New Year's Eve, so we're getting ready for the firecrackers and fireworks around midnight. I've been told to expect World War Three, so we've got our defences ready (earplugs and heavy rock music).

Thursday 3

CHINESE NEW YEAR'S DAY!

Wow! That was amazing last night! Like a hundred Bonfire Nights at once. We both stood on the balcony and watched the displays from our apartment. Couldn't hear ourselves talk at times, so just watched wide–eyed. Lots of firecrackers and rockets. Julie wants to have our own fireworks, so I'm going to the supermarket to buy some today. Apparently, they'll be another big celebration in a few days' time, when it's the birthday of the Guan Yu, the god of wealth. People will be letting off firecrackers to get old Guan's attention, and Julie wants to make sure he doesn't forget about us too.

"I didn't know you were interested in money," I sarcastically joked with her.

"I'm not," she said. "I just want to buy things."

"That's the same thing!" I said.

"No it's not," she replied. "I might want to have a lot of stamps so I can send letters. It doesn't mean I'm a bloody Philatelist."

"A what?"

"Philatelist... a stamp collector."

"Oh. But you like collecting money... particularly mine."

"Fuck–off Simon."

She's been very touchy since we got home.

Friday 4

I caught Julie reading my Blog today.

"I didn't say that!" she exclaimed. "And I don't swear like that either."

"How do you swear then?" I asked.

"Just not like that."

"Okay," I said, "let's play back your recordings..."

"I don't record every word, Simon... I know how I speak, and it's not like that."

I had to tell Julie that I used a bit of 'artist's license' now and then. "Remember your piece for the last Writers' group meeting... about Xi'an. Artist's license wasn't it?" I said.

"Yeah Yeah... but that was fiction – yours is meant to be true. If you get this published, people are going to think I'm a neurotic moron." I kept quiet, then said,

"Okay, write your own Blog then – tell the World your story through your own eyes."

Of course, I never seriously thought she would ever take me up on that. But I was in for a shock.

"I already have," she stated.

"You have?" I said in disbelief.

"It was going to be a surprise," she said. She was right there. She showed me her Blog online. Not only was she writing one, she'd already published it on the Net! I looked at the first page of 'Julie's Shanghai Blog'.

"You make me sound like some sort of mental retard – a two–year–old who can't tell wonderbra from algebra."

"Artist's licence," she smirked.

"Wednesday 19: Feeling horny. Simon out with Klaus for the night, so did DIY whilst watching a dirty movie..."

"'DIY'? You mean you put up a shelf or fixed the plumbing?"

"No – do–it–yourself... when you're own your own and you need... you know..."

"Christ! You can't put that in a Blog... we're in Shanghai, not Amsterdam."

"Oh, so you mean no–one does it here?"  
"No... I mean yes... of course they do... I'm sure they do... but you shouldn't talk about it, that's all. Not here. We could get arrested."

"Oh crap – you're so naive sometimes Simon. What d'you think girls do when they can't get a bloke?"

"Knitting?" I ventured.

Perhaps Julie's right; but I'm not sure China's ready for her yet.

Saturday 5

Decided that I owed Julie a holiday in the sun, so I've splashed out on five nights in Sanya, Hainan Island. Booked a very reasonably–priced hotel and the flights from Shanghai. She's worth it – and I've promised her no blogging whilst we're away. She has my word as a gentleman.

Wednesday 9

Quick post! It's great to escape the wintry weather in Shanghai and come to what is a bit of a tropical island. Watching Julie very closely with the local waiters – you know what she's like. Shouldn't be writing this, but just had to let someone know.

Saturday 12

Returned home last night after a great trip. Total relaxation – except for the time we went to a Theme Park and Julie persuaded me to go on the 'Rocket Launcher' with her. My body may have ascended fifty metres in 2.5 seconds, but my stomach was still firmly on the ground. She thought it was very funny when I threw up in front of a young child back on Earth; but the kid's mother wasn't amused, shouting "Huai de bangyang wei wode haizi," (a bad example for my children).

Had some nice meals out, but because of Julie's new diet we did have a few tiffs now and then.

"Why can't you be normal?" I asked her.

"Why can't you care for animals?" she said.

"I do care for animals – I like them very much. Particularly when they're grilled."

"What comes around, goes around," she stated. "Eat and be eaten."

I didn't sleep well that night. I had a very disturbing dream about being chased by a giant chicken that was trying to eat me. Will give KFC a rest for a while.

Sunday 13

Our last day of freedom before going back to school. Julie told me in bed that despite our recent efforts, she wasn't pregnant. Wasn't sure whether to pump the air with my fist and say, "Yesss!" or to be sympathetic. So I just said, "Thank you."

"Thanks for what?" she asked.

"For telling me," I replied.

"That wasn't a BBC announcement I was making, it was a plea for sympathy. We're supposed to be soul–mates on planet Earth, Simon. Don't you have any feelings?" Of course I've got feelings (I feel relieved... but I don't want to tell Julie that). We watched "Bridget Jones Diary" in bed, and I realised how much I really do love her (Julie, that is, not Bridget Jones).

Monday 14 Valentine's Day!

First day back at school. Although I have to say that it was nice being on holiday, it was good to get back to work and catch up with Klaus, Ron and Sheila. With Klaus, there was a lot of catching up to do.

"You did how much lesson preparation?" I asked him.

"Two and a half weeks."

"But the holiday was only three weeks!"

"Yah, I know. But zat's ze difference between you and me, Simon: I enjoy lesson preparation, and you don't. Hence, in the pursuit of happiness, I did school work, and you played with Julie – right?"

"Wrong. I did not 'play' with Julie..."

"Oh, if Julie was my wife, I sink I would play with her a lot, he he!"

"Well, Klaussie... she's not. And I think you should grow up."

Ron spent his holiday with Venus in Harbin, her home town, and Sheila returned to Australia to escape our winter, only to find herself in the middle of the worst Australian summer for one hundred and sixty years. Graham went to Macau to do a spot of gambling and see an old flame, and got his fingers burnt. Ron gave me the details.

"Well, you know the old adage: unlucky at cards, lucky in love?" I nodded. "Well, old Graham's got a new saying: unlucky at cards, roulette, dice and slot–machines, and unlucky in love."

"Really? I thought it was true love with that girl."

"Look, if a young Chinese girl chooses the name 'Lolita', I'm going nowhere near her. If she's really that keen on him, why did she leave Shanghai to work in Macau, tell me that?"

"For money?"

"Exactly – money first, love second and Graham third." So it seems that Graham didn't make any money in Macau. "Listen," said Ron getting close to me, "if Graham asks to borrow some cash, run a mile – that's my advice."

Tuesday 15

Had a nice dinner in a downtown Italian restaurant last night. It was the 'Valentine's Day Special' (double the usual cost), and Julie was given an authentic looking red rose by one of the waiters (who told her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. I told him she would be the last woman he'd ever meet if he didn't keep his dirty little hands off her). I did tell Julie the rose wasn't real, but she still insisted on putting it in water (mine). Anyway, it was a romantic meatless dinner for two under the stars (they'd painted them on the ceiling).

After that, we headed off to the Writers' group meeting. We were all going to write on the theme 'Evolution', but the development of the species has been postponed till next time. Melissa turned up with a New Zealand friend called Martin, who's helping her to write a book. Well, that's her story.

"So, you're a bit of a writer too, Martin?" I asked.

"Oh no, not me mate... I just provide the inspiration." He grinned and turned to Melissa. Their eyes met, and they kissed.

"Oh please – we've just eaten," said Julie.

"Sorry," replied Melissa, "just a bit more research."

Anton started the ball rolling with 'A Treatise on the Development of Overseas Concessions in Shanghai in the mid 1870's'. I managed to keep awake for the first two pages (a record for me with one of Anton's articles). Then Toni had a surprise for us: he'd written his first story!

"But... but... you're a painter..." Maddy started to say.

"So? You mean that painters can't write?"

"Well, I can't paint pictures..." she said.

"Of course you can! Even a chimpanzee can paint. You just have to develop a style of your own."

Well, I have to say, Toni had certainly developed a style – but it wasn't his own. His story was called 'Julie and Me', and it was written as a Blog!

"You can't do that!" I exclaimed.

"Why not?" he asked.

"You know why not – it's the title of my Blog."

"So? Have you got it copyrighted?"

"He doesn't have to," Melissa said. "A writer or artist automatically possesses copyright of his work from the moment it's created. All he needs is one witness, should the originality of the work ever be disputed. Do you have a witness Simon?"

"Well, of course," I said, turning to Julie.

"Ah, that doesn't count! It can't be your spouse," said Toni.

"You're making this up!" I said.

"I think he's right, Simon," Melissa added.

I didn't want to give Toni the satisfaction of knowing that Julie and I weren't officially married. I glanced over to her and saw Julie's eyes narrow, ready to pounce.

"You little creep, Toni – you knew all about Simon's Blog!" she exclaimed.

"You did Toni?" Melissa asked.

"No, I didn't know about Simon's Blog – until he mentioned it now."

Then Anton spoke. "How long have you known Julie?" he asked Toni.

"Oh, I suppose since she came to her first Writers' meeting..."

"Ah, yes – that would be September forteenth last year," Anton said, looking at his records. "And Simon, when did you start your Blog?"

"It was in England, beginning of August last year," I said.

"And you can prove that?"

"Yes, Julie saw me write it, didn't you?" she nodded.

"And were you married then?"

"No."

"And can you prove that?"

"Yes, your honour..." I thought we were in a court of law for a moment.

"Then the case is clear: whether or not Toni intentionally or unintentionally copied Simon's work is irrelevant. The fact is that Simon's creation pre–dates Toni's, and he has a valid witness, so Simon is the copyright owner, and any exploitation, including publication, of Simon's work without paying the prescribed remuneration is unlawful, according to Chinese copyright law. You couldn't reasonably prevent anyone using the title 'Julie and Me' for a piece of work, of course. However, if the subject turns out to be the same Julie that Simon has written about, then Toni would be in breach of copyright if he were to publish or exploit Simon's work."

I like Anton.

Wednesday 16

Toni came round to apologise this evening. He explained his obsession with Julie, ever since he met her at the Writers group, and said he regretted his actions. He returned five hundred dollars from the money I paid him for the painting as a goodwill gesture.

"I hope that makes up for my Blog about Julie," he said.

I thanked him (I could do with the money), and said we should meet up for a drink sometime.

When Toni had left, I opened the envelope he'd given me. Inside was five hundred dollars, and an official–looking note saying '$500 paid to Mr Simon Broom as copyright fees appertaining to Julie & Me.' The bastard.

Thinking about my future today. Both Julie and me have offers of jobs abroad, but Dr Wang would like us to stay here too. Don't know what to do. What is my path in life?

Thursday 17

David Gillespie, the American maths teacher I hired, joined the school today. He's going to shadow me for the next week and learn how we do things here. I think he's in for a surprise. He seemed to be impressed by my attitude to education. "I see teachers as circus performers in many ways. You're on stage, and the punters want to be entertained and go home happy," I said.

After my lesson, Dave and I had a chat about what he'd seen.

"Well, Davie, what d'you think?"

"Er, thank you, sir, for letting me sit in on your lesson..."

"Hey, none of this 'sir' crap. 'Your majesty' will do just fine." (I think this sort of humour is what makes me so likeable.)

"Excuse me?" he said.

"British humour – you can call me Simon."

"Thank you. I think you have a very good relationship with the students, Simon, and they seem to enjoy your lessons. I hope you don't mind me mentioning this, but I did notice that the students made quite a few errors in their math when they wrote their answers on the board – and you didn't correct them. Is this a planned pedagogical approach?"

I wondered what he was insinuating.

"David, if you are implying that I would abuse these kids in any way..."

"No, I mean, did you ignore the students' errors for some educational reason?"

Got it.

"Well, y'know, I don't believe in all this right–and–wrong, black–and–white bullshit. That's not the way I teach. I tell them it's a continuum... from extremely right, to extremely wrong, with every level in between."

"I appreciate that, but if you don't tell them when they're extremely right, very right, very wrong, or extremely wrong – how can they learn anything?"

"I tell you this, as soon as they fail their end of year examinations, then they'll know which end of the scale they're on – big time."

These young teachers... tsch!

Friday 18

Passed David onto Klaus today, so he can see how the Germans teach maths. That will sort him out.

Saturday 19

A bad day. Had an argument with Julie, all about the future. She wants me to be different if we're going to stay together. I told her that I was different from her, but that's not what she meant: she wants me to be different from me. I need to grow up, she said. Then she talked about us being a team: me, her and our future baby – with her as the team's manager and the baby as captain (the baby, for Christ's sake!) I'll just be an ordinary player.

I had hoped that Julie would be satisfied with the baby doll I bought her. She does seem to love it, and it's the first thing she plays with when she gets home, though she gives me dirty looks when I say 'playing'.

"It's practising, Simon, not playing. Your students don't play at maths, do they? They're practising to get better."

"Yeah, but we play in bed, don't we? That's not practising," I replied.

"I've heard you practising in the bathroom."

"That's just warming up," I said. She can be very cruel.

It's not easy being a boyfriend – so many demands on you. Why did I choose to be a man?

Sunday 20

Remembered why I chose to be born as a man: beer and football. Went out with Klaus, Ron and Dave last night – we wanted to show Davie the Shanghai night life, and paid a visit to Jane's bar in Hongmei Road, where Venus used to work before getting married to Ron (she doesn't need the money now – she's got his).

It was Liverpool against Arsenal on the television, and whilst Ron was talking to David (explaining the merits of supporting Arsenal), I had a chat with Klaus.

"D'you think you'll ever get married Klaus?" I asked.

"Oh sure – if I can find the right woman."

"And who would be right for you?"

"Zum–one like Julie, of course."

I'd forgotten about Klaus's passion for Jules. I suppose I'm a lucky guy, everyone seems to like her. Well, the guys anyway.

"What about your second choice?" I asked. "I mean, seeing as Julie is unavailable."

"Google," he said without blinking an eyelid.

When I got home, Julie was still up – watching the end of a movie. She looked very thoughtful, then said, "Simon, do you ever say no when Ron or Klaus ask you out for a drink?" I paused for a minute.

"I dunno – hadn't thought about it," I said.

"Well, think now." She seemed rather serious.

"I can't remember ever saying no," I had to admit.

She paused the DVD, and turned to me. "I hadn't realised it before, Simon, but you're a bit of a 'yes' man, aren't you?"

"Am I?" I asked, surprised. She nodded.

"You remember when your mate Chris suggested you take the Microbiology Course with him – and you said yes?"

"I think I do"

"And when you were offered the teaching job in Shanghai – you said yes again?"

"Yes, I did." I wondered where she was going with this.

"Then Jessica Wang asked if you'd like to go on the course in Guangzhou?"

"And I said yes..."

"And before Christmas she asked you if you'd help out with interviewing teachers for the school?"

"Yes again..." I was beginning to see a bit of a pattern building up here. And I had my own example. "You're right Jules – and whenever you ask me if I want sex, I always say yes too."

"Yeah, but that's not because you're Simon – it's because you're a bloke. The point is, you never actually say anything other than 'yes' when anyone's asks you to do anything, do you?" She moved close and stared into my eyes, into my Soul. I was getting scared now, and noticed the cover of 'Silence of the Lambs' on the DVD player. I shook my head nervously, and she continued: "With one exception: every time I've asked you about having a baby, you've always said NO – right?"

"Not guilty!" I blurted out.

"Simon, we're not in a court of law – I just want you to be honest."

"I did say yes once, I'm sure I did."

"Your mouth said yes, but every other part of your anatomy said no. Why else would you keep using a condom, when you know I want a baby?"

I did think of asking for the Fifth Amendment, like they do on TV, but I'd no idea what it actually meant. So I just said, "I did buy you a baby – remember?" The way she shook her head and left the room indicated that this was not the sort of answer she was looking for. Maybe I should have asked for the sixth amendment?

Monday 21

I think I've lost my sense of humour. I've looked everywhere for it, but just can't find it anywhere. Perhaps someone's stolen it – perhaps Julie?

"Are you sure you haven't got it?" I asked her for second time at breakfast.

"Simon, what on Earth are you talking about? You can't steal someone's sense of humour. Who would want yours anyway?"

I decided that I should say sorry for yesterday – I think she had a point.

"It's not a case of saying sorry," she said, "it's a matter of why you say no to me and yes to everyone else."

"I said no to Tracey Jones last year," I confessed.

"Who's Tracey Jones?"

Oops! "Oh, er, someone on my Microbiology course. She asked if she could go out with me."

"Is she attractive?" I was really under the cosh now.

"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder..." I ventured. Her icy stare indicated I was talking a high level of crap. "No she isn't," I admitted.

"So that doesn't count then. Why don't you want a baby?"

"Honestly?" I asked. She nodded. "I like our life together – just the two of us. Inviting a baby into our world would be like inviting your crippled cousin to come and live with us."

"I don't have a crippled cousin," she said.

"I know... but if you did. All our attention would be diverted to him..."

"To her," she corrected. I looked blank. "All my cousins are female."

"Okay, all our attention would be directed towards her. You'd lose interest in me – and you'd probably go off sex; we'd never go out because one of us would need to look after her; I'd lose sleep, because of the crying at night (hers, not mine) – then my work would suffer. You'd expect me to change her nappy, feed her, read her stories. And I'd have to give up my social life to look after her."

"Are we talking about my cousin or the baby?"

"It's the same difference.... except for the nappies perhaps."

Julie looked thoughtful. "Y'know, what you just said... it's right. But it's all about you. If you bring a new being into this World, you have to make sacrifices, Simon. You have to give to another person."

We were both quiet for a minute, then she said, "Okay, I'll make you a deal: if we can have a baby, you won't have to look after it at all. I'll feed it, clean it, get up when it cries – I'll do everything. You can still have your social life with your mates and you don't have to lose sleep. And I won't go off sex – you know me... What do you say?"

I looked into her eyes, the ones I'd fell in love with two years ago. "Yes," I said. And this time I meant it.

Tuesday 22

In the Teachers' Office this morning, I couldn't help thinking about my conversation with Julie yesterday. Am I going to be a father? Did I really say 'yes' to Julie? I turned to ask Klaus what he thought about fatherhood – only to find that I was totally on my own. Then out of the blue, a student appeared.

"Teacher..." He pointed to my telephone, breathlessly.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked.

"Telephone," he said.

"Yes, good... telephone. And this?" I said pointing at my chair.

"Chair," he said.

"Great!" Not the way I usually give English lessons, but I'm always very flexible when it comes to learning. (I think that flexibility is one of my greatest attributes.) Then he said, "Problem... use telephone can?"

"No, you should say: 'I have a problem, please can I use the telephone.'" He looked a bit panicky. "Don't worry," I said, "I know it's not easy – take a deep breath, then say the words." He took a few deep breaths, then said "I have problem... please can use telephone?"

"Okay, that wasn't bad. I understand your meaning – but you've missed out a few prepositions; and to speak English correctly, you really should repeat exactly what I say: 'I have a problem, please can I use the telephone?' Now you."

He took another deep breath. "I have a problem, please... can... I use... the telephone."

I gave him a big hand. "That was really good, well done! Anything else I can help you with?"

"Father attack mother... please can I use the telephone?"

Got it. He phoned his mum, and spoke for several minutes before putting down the receiver. He looked relieved.

"Is she okay? What did she say?" I asked.

"Yes... she okay now. She told me to work hard."

Wednesday 23

Started reading a book of 'Twisted Tales' last night. Y'know, mystery–type stories that have a twist at the end, and you discover it's the quiet, polite, hard–working student who chops off her teacher's head with a machete and puts the body in the freezer. In some ways, I think my life is a bit of a mystery – interesting to find out how it will end. Julie says her life is like a twisted story. Well, her mother's certainly is. Jules had a call from her last night. Apparently her dad has been let out of jail three years early, and her mum is in a real panic – doesn't know what to do about the boyfriend who's moved in with her. I suggested she invite her mum to Shanghai while things cool off a bit.

"You don't remember my mum, do you babe?" she said.

"Yeah I do... she was very kind to me when we went to London."

"Kind? She was trying to get off with you, Simon... she wanted to screw you." I had to admit I found that hard to believe. "Don't you remember the way she grabbed your bum?" she said.

"I thought she was just being motherly..."

I asked Julie what her dad would do if he discovered her mum had a boyfriend.

"Oh, he'd probably go back to Prison."

"What, you mean he'd just knock on the door and ask to be let back in?" I said.

"No, he'd be sent back to Prison after he'd cut the guy's balls off."

Interesting family.

Decided to write my own 'Twisted Tale' for our next Writers' meeting.

Thursday 24

Y'know, the boys here are mad keen on basketball. I've tried to tell them it's just a girl's game in England, but they don't believe me. Basketball's so easy, I said. All you've got to do is throw a big ball (a bit like an orange beach–ball) into a hoop. There's not even a goalkeeper to stop you – how hard can that be?

I saw Dr Wang today and suggested we have a 'students versus teachers' basketball match. She wasn't too keen at first.

"It could be quite embarrassing, Simon – a big difference in ability and age."

"That's okay," I replied, "we'll let them score a few."

"No Simon, they will beat you... easily."

I couldn't believe it – little kids against grown men! I mean, we've got Big Ron, Hamish, Graham – all tall guys – plus me and Klaussie. Then there's David, the new maths teacher. He's American – and tall – he must be able to play.

In the end, Dr Wang said okay, and let me arrange the match.

Told the teachers about the idea, and they were all up for it (apart from David, who said he really hated the game). So five of us had a warm up after school – which left me a little concerned. First Big Ron began by kicking the ball to Klaus, who tried an overhead kick to get it in the hoop. Then Hamish threw the ball so hard at Graham that he had to retire hurt. We've got one week to get our act together, or we're toast.

Friday 25

Since saying that little magic word 'yes' to Julie, she's been reading everything she can about babies. I did tell her that she needs to be pregnant before having a baby, but it hasn't stopped her preparations.

Last night, whilst she was doing some research online, she suddenly turned to me. "Simon, what blood group are you?"

"I dunno," I said. "Why d'you ask?"

"Just find out will you, there's a good boy."

I did my good little doggie impression and went to fetch my health check certificate from last year.

"A," I told her.

"I said, I need your blood type."

"I didn't say 'Eh?' I said 'A'. I'm blood type A."

"Are you positive?" she said, in that teachery way of hers. I checked again.

"Yes, A positive."

She went back to her laptop screen and frowned.

"What're you looking at?" I asked.

"It's information on blood types and personalities," she replied, not looking up from the screen. Apparently, some people believe they can tell your character and personality from your blood type. I asked what mine said.

"Type A: Tender, neat and kind. They make good wives." She smiled. "I always knew you'd make a good wife, babe."

"Whoa! Hold on a second let me see that." I studied the screen and asked her what type she was.

"AB," she replied.

I read the text aloud: "Type AB: weird geniuses; sometimes thought to be crazy and emotional. There's definitely something in this, Jules."

"Simon, I'm not crazy and emotional – I'm not, I'm not!" she said, storming out the room."

Saturday 26

Talked to Klaussie about this blood type business over a couple of drinks last night. Did he think there was anything in it?

"Oh yah... ze Japanese certainly think so. If you apply for a job in zum Japanese companies, they have to check your blood type. And dating websites always ask your blood category when you register. Popular Japanese cartoons, like Manga and Anime, also give the blood type of their characters."

Klaussie obviously knew a bit about this, and he'd clearly been looking for Japanese girls. I asked him what his category was.

"Oh, I'm type A," he said. The same as me then. "And what about Google?" he asked. We both looked at my sheet. Type B: loving, cute, active and humorous.

"Got to be B," we said in unison.

Sunday 27

Met up with Ron, Klaus, Graham, Hamish and David for our second basketball practice today. David said he didn't want to play, but he'd help us with the rules, as he used to play for some small American team called NBA, or something. Anyway, he did seem to know the game. Bit of an improvement since last time. Davie taught us several ways to pass the ball to each other, and how to score from different angles on the court. We eventually persuaded him to be our sub for the game against the students next week. I think we can beat them!

Monday 28

The student who used my phone last week came back to see me. He told me his name was Rooster (he was born in the year of the Rooster), and he warmly shook my hand. The handshake quickly turned into a bear–hug – just as Dr Wang came into the office.

"Everything alright, Simon?" she asked. I smiled thinly from behind the hug, and released myself quickly. Dr Wang left with a concerned look on her face.

"Well, got to work now, Rooster," I said. But he wasn't going to let me off so easily.

"Teacher, can I sing song for you?" he asked.

"Oh, er... what sort of a song?"

"Backstreet Boys... okay?"

"Which album?" I heard myself saying. He looked blank. "Can you tell me the song title?" I said.

"Yes – as long as you love me."

"Okay okay – I love you... now what's the song called?"

"As long as you love me," he repeated. And then he sang the song.

"Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine,

I'm leaving your life in my hands.

People say I'm crazy and that I'm blind,

Risking it all in a glance..."

This did worry me slightly. But he wasn't finished.

"And how you got me blind is still a mystery,

I can't get you out my head...

Don't care what is written in your history,

As long as you're here with me."

I gave him a little applause (as little as possible), and some words of encouragement. I wonder what his blood type is?

That brought to an end a very strange month.

* * *

March

Tuesday 1

It was the Writers group meeting last night, and Anton asked us for suggestions for a new name for our club. Various names were put forward, including: Write and Wrong; the Night Writers; Shanghai Pen–Pushers; Words Anonymous; and the Manuscriptors – all of which were 'interesting', according to Anton. He then asked me if I'd like to read the first part of my new 'Twisted Tale' story. Was the world ready for this, I wondered?

"It was a cold, dark night. So cold, your bones could rattle in your skin. Everyone had gone home – everyone, that is, except the librarian and a studious–looking Chinese girl sitting opposite me. She was reading a book, making notes as she studied the pages through her black, thick–rimmed spectacles. 'Ni hao,' I said to her. She looked up with a quizzical expression. 'Do I know you?' she asked. 'Not yet,' I said, 'but the night is young.'"

At this point, Julie also gave me a quizzical expression. But I continued.

"'I've got a secret,' I intimated. 'I know where they've hidden the body.' Now she was interested. 'What body – what are you talking about?' I just had to tell her – she deserved to know. 'Your brother's body.' The young woman was incredulous. 'What?' she said. She was lost for words. Eventually she managed to say, 'Is he... is he all right?' I shook my head. 'I'm sorry,' I said, 'he's dead.' Suddenly, she stood up. 'Take me to him...' But I was in no hurry. 'NOW,' she demanded. I shrugged my shoulders. 'Okay,' I said, 'it's your funeral.' We left the library, and suffered the cold, driving rain as we walked in silence to the main road. I hailed a cab, and directed the driver to West Nanjing Road station. The girl looked anxious and confused. 'I told him not to do it – too dangerous,' she muttered. 'He should never got involved those people.' I put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her. 'You really can't trust anyone...,' I said, 'trust me.' We arrived at the station and I took her to a small, dark alley round the back. 'In here,' I pointed, indicating a doorway. We went up an old flight of stairs to the second floor. I took a smooth, silver key out of my coat pocket and opened the door. Inside, a man's body lay on the floor, face down. She rushed in and knelt by the man's side, 'Yitian!' she cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks as she turned the body over. Then she paused. 'Oh, thank god,' she exclaimed, 'it's not him!' 'It isn't?' I said. 'No, it's only my husband,' she replied."

Everyone was quiet for moment. Then Melissa said, "Wow!" "Double wow," added Maddy. "That's really got potential... it needs a bit of editing, of course, but great!" "Yeah," said Melissa – you need to add some sex, something to spice it up... maybe in the taxi." "It's certainly got a twist in the tail," said Anton, "though it is rather short.

On the way home, Julie was quiet. Then she said, "Why did you write about me?"

"What d'you mean?" I said.

"The girl in your story – it's me isn't it?"

"Are you Julie, or her strange twin sister?" I asked her. She looked out the window, not amused. I continued, "The girl in the story is Chinese, with a Chinese husband and a Chinese brother and she wears glasses. How can that be you?"

"I think you know," she said.

Wednesday 2

When I saw Google this afternoon, I asked her blood type.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Just a bit of research," I said.

"What sort of research?"

"I want to see if there's anything in this blood type, personality business."

She went to find something.

"What is the best blood type?" she asked when she returned.

"Best? I dunno... just a minute..." I looked at the information I'd printed out from the internet. "In Japan, type O is considered to be the best type."

"Okay, that is my blood type."

"You can't say that! You can't just choose your blood type."

"Why not? What if I wanted to change my blood?"

"You can't just change your blood like you change your make–up – it doesn't work like that. If you have a blood transfusion, after an accident say, they have to give you the same type of blood."

"Why?"

"Because you'll die if they don't."

"I'm type O," she said, holding up her medical certificate with a smile.

Type O: Bad tempered, good decision makers; they are typical leaders and are wise; they make good elder brothers.

Thursday 3

Google asked me today how my Chinese lessons were going. Actually, she said, "Nide Zhongwen xue de zenme yang le?" To which I eloquently replied, "Eh?" I'd totally forgotten I was going to sign up for lessons... but I was in for a surprise.

"No problem Simon – I can teach you."

"You can? That's great!"

She said she'd give me a special price, and we agreed on every Wednesday evening. Can't wait! Actually, I think I've got a flair for languages, and learning Chinese should be a pushover.

We had our basketball match after school today – kids versus us teachers. It was great fun. Nigel (from Guidance) recruited some female students to be cheerleaders (he really wanted to join them, but we thought he looked ridiculous in the costume). The game was easy for the students. We played two halves, and by half–time the score was students 55, teachers 19. Dr Wang was right: it looked like we were going to be embarrassingly thrashed. Then suddenly our luck changed: Klaus went for a run, skip and a hop sort of attempt at scoring and landed painfully on his ankle. No way he could play after that, so David came on as a sub. What a player! Ran rings around everyone (including me), and with one minute to go, we were just one point behind at 66–65. I couldn't believe it! Then, in injury time, Big Ron was fouled, and we were awarded two penalty throws. Ron insisted on taking them himself, and the first went straight in the basket. Sixty–six all! He just had to score the second to win the game, but he bottled it. The ball hit the rim, did about three revolutions and dropped outside the basket. It was a draw! Still, a fair result in the end I guess – and Davie was our big star.

"Why didn't you tell us you were so good?" I asked him in the pub afterwards.

"Oh, it's a long story..." he said.

"I've got a long drink," I replied.

He proceeded to tell me about playing basketball for the San Antonio Spurs in the NBA league in the USA. Apparently a girl had taken a shine to him, and after dating a few times he fell in love with her. They went out for two months – before he found out that she was engaged to another player. They'd had a few arguments, and she was only going out with David to make her fiancé jealous and want her back. It worked for her, but David quit the team – and basketball. He never wanted to play again.

But our match with the students had reignited his passion for the game, and he was very pleased to get over his past mistake.

Friday 4

Had an interesting dream last night. I was at home helping Julie catalogue our CD collection, and then all of a sudden it was Google, not Julie. She started teaching me Chinese, pointing to something in the textbook, with our heads very close. When I looked up, our eyes locked. "Can I kiss you?" I said. She withdrew.

"What would Julie say?" she asked.

"She'd say 'yes' – she likes kissing me," I replied. (I've noticed that I'm quite funny in my dreams.)

"I mean, what would she say if you kissed me?"

"She wouldn't know," I said.

She reached forward, gently kissed me on the lips. It was very sensual, and strangely familiar.

"D'you love me babe?" a voice asked.

I opened my eyes, and Julie was by my side.

"Y'know I do," I said sleepily. "There's no–one else for me."

She asked me what I was dreaming about, and I said, "My next story."

"Am I in it?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said.

(Note to self: delete, delete, delete!)

Saturday 5

Something's happening to me. It's difficult to explain, but I think I'm going through some sort of enlightenment, without actually being enlightened. I've got the feeling I'm moving on, without actually going anywhere. It's like I'm waiting for some–one or some–thing, without actually having an appointment. I think I'm born for something greater than me. I asked Julie about it this morning after breakfast, and she said she understood.

"You're just growing up, babe, don't worry about it. It's called adolescence."

"But I'm twenty–seven," I said.

"Yeah, you're a late developer. Pass me the remote will you honey?"

Needed to talk to someone about this, but was getting zero understanding and sympathy from Jules. So called Google and asked if we could change our Chinese lesson to Saturday. She said okay, so I told Julie I was going to see Google, and she also said okay. So everything seemed okay.

Thought I should show some pretence at wanting to learn Chinese, and said 'Ni hao' when Google opened her apartment door. She got me some tea, and I began to tell her about my 'adolescent' feelings, as Julie described them. But before I could say another word, Google asked me about my Blog.

"It's blogging along," I said whimsically. She stared at me quizzically with that lab–scientist look she does so well.

"Why are you writing it?" she asked. I had to stop and think. Why was I doing it? For my own amusement, to pass the time of day, for my mum and dad, for my future children, to make some money, for posterity? I really didn't know.

"Why d'you ask?" I said.

"Because I thought of writing one," she replied, "a lot of people do – but I couldn't think of a good reason. Perhaps if I could help someone it would be worthwhile."

To help someone? I'd never thought of that. But how could my Blog help anyone? It's not like I can reveal the cure for Cancer, the way to end all wars, or prevent World hunger. I can't really help Mum and dad either – they've both got partners now, so they're okay. And Julie's very independent – she doesn't really need me (except for cleaning, cooking and sex). "I don't know what I could say to help anyone," I said eventually.

"How about helping the Universe?" Google suggested.

"But you can't help a Universe, can you? It doesn't make sense."

"I think you first have to know why the Universe is here," she replied. I looked blank, and she continued. "In your classroom, you have to know why the students have come to your lesson before you can help them. If you don't know, you might teach them maths, when they really need to learn English."

"Right... but that's easy: I'd just ask them what they wanted to learn. It's a no brainer," I replied.

"But if the students can't speak or read or write English, how could you ask them?"

"I guess I'd have to find some way to speak their language," I said.

"Okay. Well, it's the same with the universe – you need to know what language it speaks before you can help it."

This was stranger than my strangest dream... it was even stranger than Julie, and that's saying something. I knew Google wasn't quite normal, but now she seemed from another World. How can a Universe speak a language? "All right," I said with a deep breath, "tell me: what language does the Universe speak?" She drew close to me, staring with those deep, brown eyes.

"It's the language of the Soul," she said.

Sunday 6

Couldn't get over my conversation with Google last night. Somehow, I've got to 'help the Universe', and to do that, I need to speak the same language – the language of the Soul.

"What is the language of the Soul?" I asked Julie in bed this morning.

"Feelings," she said without opening her eyes, "nothing more than feelings." Then she suddenly opened her eyes and turned to me. "Have you written your bit for the Writers group, Simon? The meeting's tomorrow."

Totally forgot about that. We're all supposed to write a piece on the theme 'Evolution'. So I set about writing something quickly.

By lunchtime, I'd got it sorted, and I read it to Julie.

"What d'you think?" I said.

She frowned. "You say that Charles Darwin was a follower of the Darwinian Theory, right?" I nodded my head. "Do know who came up with the Darwinian Theory?"

"Darwin's dad?"

"No."

"His son?"

"No."

"His wife?"

She gave me an exasperated look. "Simon, it was Charles Darwin! How can you ask such a deep question as 'what is the language of the Soul', then say such a ridiculous thing like that?"

"Practice?" I ventured. She was not amused.

I have to say, I'd no idea what Jules was talking about when she said 'feelings are the language of the Soul'. I have feelings: I feel hot, I feel cold, I feel it's going to rain. But now I just feel strange.

How do I talk to the Universe – and how can it talk to me?

Monday 7

Y'know the sort of feeling you get before a big thunderstorm? The sky goes dark, the wind whips up, and the air is charged with electricity. Well, I feel nothing like that. But I tell you this: there's a big change coming into my life – at least, that's what Meg the Mystic predicted when I signed up for a free trial horoscope last week – no strings attached. Just send your email address, name, and date of birth, and Meg will predict the next twelve months ahead. Because of an unusual astrological conjunction of Jupiter and Uranus – which will last for the next one hundred and eighteen days – it looks like the months ahead are going to be very important for me. Of course, I don't really believe this crap – but Julie swears by it (she swears about most things actually). The free reading is only an appetiser, as you may have guessed, and the full reading will cost seventy–five dollars (special introductory price for gullible types).

I don't know if Google has read Meg's predictions, but perhaps she should. She looked very sad when she came into work today.

"What's up?" I said.

"My bike – it's gone."

"Gone where?" I asked.

"Stolen, I think. I put the lock on last night at home, but this morning it was gone."

"It could have been joy riders," I said. "You might get it back." I tried to be positive.

"You mean, Ken's wife?" she asked.

"Ken?" I queried.

"Ken Ryders – the Physics teacher who worked here last year."

"No no, I mean people who steal your bike just for fun, then dump it somewhere later. They don't want to keep it."

But Google said that doesn't happen in China: if a bike or car is stolen, it's for keeps. And it wasn't just an old push–bike we were talking about either; it was her beautiful red e–bike. I didn't know what to say.

"I'm sure the police will find it," I offered. She shook her head.

"No, in Shanghai there is no chance. Too many people, too many streets, not enough policemen. They'll record the loss, but probably not even look."

"Well, fingers crossed," I said. She smiled thinly, and went to her office.

It'll turn up, I said to myself.

Tuesday 8

Asked Google today if there was any news about her bike.

"Mayo," she said. I thought she was going to cry. I crossed two more fingers for her.

Sometimes I feel so helpless. When I was at Primary school, I had a crush on a girl called Jane Summers who lost a gold ring, and everyone was looking for it all around the school. I really wanted to find it and be her hero. Then she'd fall in love with me, and be my girlfriend, and everyone else would be jealous because she was really cool, and beautiful, and my stock would suddenly hit the ceiling, and then she'd want to marry me, and we'd be the Posh and Becks of our school. I remember being very disappointed when someone else found the ring. I can still hear my best mate Karl saying, "Hey, Mike Jones has found Jane's ring! Isn't that great?" And I thought, 'I don't believe it – that loser'. Only, I was the loser because three years later they were going out together, and five years after that they were married. Okay, I was only ten, but the feelings were real.

But y'know, if I'd found that ring, I'd probably never have met Julie, and then I'd probably never have come to China, and I wouldn't have met Google, and I wouldn't be writing this Blog, so you wouldn't be reading it. So you could spend your time doing something much more useful. But you'd never know about Jane Summers and the ring.

Wednesday 9

Something's happened... I don't know what to say. It's hard to express how I feel, or what I'm thinking just now... I don't know how to put it into words. It's amazing – truly amazing... got to tell Julie.

Thursday 10

On Tuesday night, I went to bed wondering what I could do to help Google. It wasn't the same as wanting to find Jane Summers ring – I genuinely wanted to help Google find her bike, and not for the praise. Google was so upset: the bike was her independence, the love of her life, and her pride and joy – all rolled into one. And it was brand new. Then as I lay in bed, in a sort of half–awake, half–asleep state, I 'saw' a map in my mind's eye. It was a map of Shanghai, and on the map I saw Google's apartment, where she'd lost the bike; and in red I saw a line tracing a path the bike had been taken. I was certain that's what it was. The next morning, I told Julie about the 'dream'. "Can you still see the map?" she asked. I closed my eyes.

"Yes, just – and I remember it from last night."

"Then you must follow it, babe, and as soon as possible."

"But I've got lessons first thing..."

"I'll cover for you... follow your dream."

And so I did.

I went to Google's apartment, and from there I walked in the direction of the red line. It was getting faint now, but I still had this strong feeling of hot and cold – like cold was on the wrong track, and hot was right. Anyway, I walked for miles, turning down one road, then across another. I went to places I'd never visited in Shanghai. I almost gave up at one point – but it was like I was being pushed forward. 'Straight on, turn left here... carry on for a bit... now next right.' After walking for over fifty minutes, I saw it, down a narrow a side street next to the door of a small house: her red scooter! I knew it was hers even before I got up close and saw the name Google in gold letters on the side. I just knew it. "I've found it!" I exclaimed to myself. And then I realised the truth of the situation: no, I didn't find it – I couldn't have. Some–one, or some–thing, directed me to find it. But at that moment, who or how or why didn't matter. The fact was that this was Google's bike, and it was no longer lost. I couldn't wait to see the look on her face.

I pushed the bike back to school, and there was Google, her face buried in her work. When I showed her the bike, tears ran down her face.

"Oh Simon! How did you? Where was it? When...?" She was overjoyed – and I was warmed by her joy. Then she did something totally against her conditioning: she gave me a big hug, and I hugged her back. "Thank you," she said.

Today, the enormity of finding the bike really dawned on me. I relived the moment again and again; and whichever way I looked at it, I knew one thing for absolute certain: I did not find Google's bike. But if I didn't, who did?

When I told Julie the story, she listened without saying a word. When I'd finished, she looked at me in a way I've never really noticed before and said, "So now you've discovered the language of the Soul, Simon."

Friday 11

I met up with Google, Sheila, Klaus, Ron, Graham and some of the admin girls after work last night to celebrate the return of Google's e–bike. But I was surprised by their reactions.

"That was a lucky thing... finding Google's bike," Klaus remarked.

"Luck?" I said.

"Yah – a chance occurrence... but good fortune."

"I didn't actually see it as luck..." I started to say. Then Big Ron chipped in.

"Just using your detective skills, eh Simon? Looking for clues, getting into the head of the thief – that sort of thing..."

"No I... I just sort of felt it..." I didn't want to tell them about my mental map. They'd think I was mental.

"Criminal mind, that one," Ron said turning to Graham. "Got to be one to know one." Graham nodded with a smile. Hearing this, Sheila came over.

"Don't listen to them, Simon – I understand. 'Women's intuition', right?" she whispered, but it didn't stop Ron hearing it.

"Oh, I think we're learning more and more about Simon by the minute – or should I say 'Simone'?"

Well, ha–bloody–ha. Whilst they were having fun at my expense, I noticed Google looking across to me, so I went to talk to her in a quiet part of the bar. "Thank you Simon – I'm so happy," she said.

"It wasn't me," I said. "I know it wasn't. I was sent there."

"By the Universe?" she asked.

"I guess so... or a part of it. It felt like I was somehow plugged in to the Universe, or something. I just knew where to go."

"It must be trying to get your attention," she observed.

"Well, it's certainly got that now," I said.

"Then don't stop there... use it, make it yours."

"How do you know so much about it?"

Then she told me about her Auntie – the one who died last November. Apparently, she was a very spiritual lady who taught Google a lot about following her true path, and 'listening to her Soul'.

"What is my Soul?" I asked.

"It's you – the real you. It lives forever, and grows, evolves."

"Where is it?"

"It's everywhere. It's part of something much bigger – a Universal Soul. We're all part of the Universal Soul, Simon. Well, that's what Auntie used to say."

Saturday 12

I couldn't get Google's words out of my head as I travelled home in a taxi last night. All my life I'd thought there was only me and other people in my life. Now there seems to be some sort of third force – the 'Universal Soul'. What was this all about? Whatever it was, I had to find out: it was too important not to.

I hadn't spent much time with Jules recently, so I suggested dinner downtown, so we could relax and talk. Just after we'd ordered our food, a thought came to me, straight out of the blue: where do thoughts come from?

"Jules, where do our thoughts come from?" I asked. She looked at me strangely.

"I dunno," she replied. "Our brains, I guess."

"You mean that our brains make thoughts?"

"Maybe... or perhaps our subconscious. I'm not a scientist, Simon – ask a brain expert. What's it matter where they come from anyway?"

Just then, our food arrived.

"What if our brains just receive thoughts – like a radio receives radio waves?" I said. "It would explain inspiration, new ideas, brainwaves, women's intuition – right?" I suddenly got excited. "What if every thought we ever had originated from a source outside of ourselves?" Julie seemed to me more interested in her Thai prawn curry than thought processes – but I continued. "Like this food. We didn't make it, but we ordered it – and it came from the kitchen."

"Go on..."

"I was given the thoughts to find Google's bike – I'm certain of it. What about all those cool guys in history who had new ideas and inventions... what if inspiration is given to us, not created by us? What if there is a higher power, a Universal Soul or whatever, that we can tap into? How much more are we missing from life by not listening to it?"

Julie reached over and gave me a big kiss. "What's that for?" I asked.

"It's for the new you, babe," she said.

Sunday 13

Decided I should take more notice of my thoughts. If someone has taken the trouble to send them to me, the least I can do is listen. The first strong thought I had today was, 'Call Anton' – so I rang him on his mobile. "Simon, I was just thinking about you!" he said. "We should get together sometime." We arranged to meet for coffee at Starbucks, and I told him all about finding Google's bike.

"Well, that's amazing!" he said. "But not extraordinary."

"It isn't?" I replied.

"No – not at all. Half the population of the world have this ability."

"They do?" I said. I couldn't believe it. "Who are they?"

"Women," he replied. "Actually, everyone has the ability, but it's mainly women who are attributed with using it. Unfortunately, in today's world, Intuition is no longer valued – not like it was in ancient times. The ancient Greeks and Egyptians put far greater significance on Intuition than we do – and yet they used it far less than the civilisations before them." Well, that got me really interested. What civilisations existed before the ancient Egyptians?

"The Atlanteans and Lemurians," said Anton.

I had to admit that I thought Atlantis was just a fairy tale – like King Arthur, Robin Hood, or Harry Potter – but apparently not. In fact, according to Anton, the Egyptians and Greeks derived their civilisations from remnants of Atlantean culture.

"The Greek Philosopher Plato wrote about Atlantis. He believed that the Atlanteans lived in a very highly evolved society – technologically and culturally. In these times, many people believed that everything was connected – that we were all part of the 'Universal Whole'... in effect, that we were all One. Consequently, whatever you did to another, you did to yourself. In ancient times, there was a great awareness of this connectedness, and also not the same need for the written or even verbal communications that we have in today's societies. Everyone just knew what others were thinking and feeling and what to do to help each other. Intuition and inspiration were commonplace – nothing out of the ordinary. They believed that listening to and using your Intuition was the essence of creative and soulful living. It was what you used to find the purpose of your life and your place in the World."

I was taken aback by Anton's insight and wisdom.

"And do you believe this Anton?" I asked him.

"I do Simon, very much so. And I think you are beginning to believe it too."

And he was right.

Monday 14

It was hard getting back to work after the weekend. My head was full of so many new ideas and new thoughts, and I wanted to share all these with my students. In the end we just shared Probability and Statistics; but now a door had opened, I couldn't go back to how I thought before.

Over lunch, I got talking to Sammy, one of the Admin girls who works in the same office as Google. "Google seems very pleased to get her bike back," she said.

"Yes, very pleased," I replied.

"We should say thank you to Jesus for that," she observed between mouthfuls of Soup."

"Jesus? What did Jesus have to do with it?" I asked.

"It was either Jesus or Satan who guided you there, Simon."

"Why does it have to be one or the other?"

"It always is – it says so in the Bible."

I had to tell Sammy that I was not a believer, and never had been.

"That's okay, I'll pray for you," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because if you don't let Jesus into your heart, you will burn in hell forever and ever when you die. Sorry about that." She smiled and went back to her office, leaving me pondering what she said.

When I was eleven years old, I was mad–keen on football (still am I guess). So when I was asked to play for the local Church team, I jumped at the chance: always up for a game of footie, no matter who it's with. Only thing was, in order to play for their team, I had to go to Church every Sunday. Hated it. They got me teaching the New Testament to younger kids in Sunday school. I was only eleven for Christ's sakes! Anyway, I decided in the end it wasn't worth doing something I didn't like just so I could do something I did. Don't get me wrong, I think there was a bloke called Jesus (or whatever his name was) and I'm sure he was a pretty cool guy with a good message (make love not war, or whatever). Same goes for his other mates, Buddha, Mohammed, Krishna etc. All had good things to say. But I don't think old Jesus wanted to create a new religion in his name, which is what happened of course. And I'm dead certain he wouldn't have wanted people to be as extreme as Sammy, lovely though she is.

Whatever directed me to Google's bike was something very powerful – a part of me I'd forgotten about, or lost contact with. Of course, if Sammy's right, I'll burn in hell for eternity for not being a Christian. But at least I won't have to endure the cold Shanghai winters.

Tuesday 15

It was nice to go to the Writers Meeting last night and listen to people's writings on the theme of 'Evolution'. Anton had written an article called 'Evolution and Revolution: a short history'; Melissa wrote 'The Evolution of Sex'; Julie offered 'Darwin was a Moron'; Toni wrote a poem called simply 'Evolution', which illustrated his painting; and Maddy wrote 'Eve–o–Lution', which was a short story about a woman called Eve who was born in the fictitious town 'Lution' in the year 986AD and became the leader of her tribe. Interesting.

I liked what Anton said at the end of his piece: 'Evolution, like Revolution, can happen overnight. Inspiration, or revelation, can change how you, as a thinking, feeling being, experience and perceive the world. Consequently, your whole Self, your entire being, could transcend itself in an instant – and in doing so you could take one upward step on the ladder of Evolution.' What rung of the ladder of Evolution am I on, I wondered?

My article said the same sort of things as Julie's, except completely in reverse. Julie ended her piece with a poem.

THE EVOLUTIONARY HOP, by Julie

Adam and Evolution,

What's the solution

To all this mess?

We can only guess.

Was my daddy Adam?

My mummy Eve?

Who would believe

It's down to chance?

Would you like to dance

The Evolutionary Hop?

I think we should stop

Thinking we know it all

And start to crawl

Back to the sea.

It was agreed that most of the night's offerings could be considered for possible inclusion in our Anthology (well, all except mine, actually). But it's the whole that matters... (the one in my heart).

Wednesday 16

Received an email from Mystic Meg this morning.

"Dear Simon, I have recently made an interesting discovery, so I thought I'd write to you today to tell you all about it. I have been studying your situation on an astrological level, as you know, and this particular discovery is somewhat unusual and very precious. It concerns a certain someone who has been by your side for the past twenty–six years without you being very much aware of it. However, this person has accompanied and protected you all the way through your life. You must be wondering just who this person could be."

I was.

"Well Simon, this person is your Guardian Angel."

Guardian Angel? I thought about that. Where was my Guardian Angel when my mum trapped my fingers in the car door when I was eight? Or when I fell off my bike when I was ten? Or when a cricket ball hit me in the eye when I was thirteen? Or when got glandular fever when I was seventeen? Or when I got stuck in a drain last year?

No, I don't think I've got that sort of Guardian Angel. But I tell you something, I'm not on my own in this World – and I'm going to find out exactly who or what is watching over me (I hope it's young and female).

Checked my computer again after school and found an email from Eunice (UK job agency). She asked how China was, and I told her it was big. I also said I was enjoying the job, but might be moving on. (I've still got those job offers from schools in Thailand, Turkey and Vietnam.) What am I going to do with my life? I decided to talk to Jules about it.

"What do you want to do with your life, Simon?" she asked me.

"I thought I was asking the questions?" I said.

"You thought wrong, dear," she replied. "So?"

"I dunno... I really don't. Things have changed since I found Google's bike. I'd like to make a difference, I guess."

"Then do it – make a difference. Use everything you're good at to achieve your dream." She paused. "What are you good at anyway?"

"I seem to be good at finding bikes..." I said lamely.

"Then find things... and start with yourself."

Thursday 17

Klaus came looking for me this morning in the office – he wanted to make sure I was okay. Said he hadn't seen me around much lately. "No, I've been trying to find myself," I said.

"Well, you did a good job finding Google's bike," he replied.

"I thought you said that was just luck?"

"Yah, but you can earn your luck."

Earn your luck? "How do you do that?" I asked.

"Ah, zat is a good question!" Klaus exclaimed. "Actually, the answer is not really scientific."

He went on to tell me about people who play games of pure luck, like national lotteries or some casino games, such as roulette. They study patterns, learn when to play and when not, and develop some sort of intuitive feel for the games. And there are many cases of such people who do actual win big.

"You mean, it's sort of... getting out of it what you put into it?"

"Yah, in a way.

"Have you had any success like this Klaus?"

"I have – at Roulette – and I did use a system. I spent a long time studying the winning number patterns on roulette tables in Germany, and developing a 'feel' for the game, and I won enough for a two week holiday in Portugal. But in the end, I think my winnings were more to do with what I needed at the time, and less about the system I used. So as I say, it's not really scientific."

Maybe science had not yet caught up with reality?

In the afternoon, one of my students (Emma) came to me. She was quite upset. "Teacher, I have problem – can you help me?"

"Okay," I said, "what chapter is it?"

"No, not maths – I have lost something... something very valuable. I know you helped Yao Ting (Google) find her bike, so I hope you help me."

I always want to help my students; but when Emma told me she'd lost her new mobile phone (costing two thousand yuan), I didn't think I could help. I mean, when I helped Google find her e–bike, it just happened. You don't have inspirational dreams like that every day. Well I don't. Having said that, she did seem very upset, so I said I'd try.

Friday 18

Lay in bed last night, focussing on Emma's mobile phone, trying hard to see another map in that twilight zone between wake–fullness and sleep. But all I saw was Julie.

"Simon, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find a student's mobile."

"And you think it's in our bed?"

I sat up. "No... I thought I could find it in Shanghai – like I found Google's bike. But I can't get connected."

"To the phone?"

"No, to the Source."

"Perhaps it's not yours to find. Perhaps she should be more careful – and needs to learn a lesson."

"How did you know it's a 'she'?"

"Because you're a man, Simon."

Julie's very perceptive like that (knowing I'm a man I mean).

Saturday 19

The weekend – hurrah! But no further luck with Emma's mobile phone, despite studying a map of Shanghai for nearly an hour. Tried closing my eyes and just dropping my finger on a point on the map. "There!" I exclaimed opening my eyes.

"Are you sure?" Julie said.

"Yeah."

"Hope it's waterproof then," she said heading for the kitchen. "You're pointing at the Huangpu River."

Decided this was not such a good idea after all. Perhaps Julie was right – I'm not meant to find the phone.

I called Google to talk about Emma's mobile – what would she do in this situation?

"Well, Auntie always had a notepad with her; and whenever she didn't know what to do, she would talk to her Soul."

Talk to her Soul? Apparently, Auntie had a sort of conversation with herself. She'd write down a question, and then write the answers which came to her. It felt like talking to her mother, she used to say to Google; but actually she thought it was a conversation with her Soul. "And you think I can do that?" I asked.

"Sure, why not? You found my bike, so you must have a good connection."

"Have you ever done this?" I asked Google.

"Yes – whenever something was important."

"Did you ask about your bike?"

"Auntie always told me not to ask anything for myself... unless it also helped another person."

Later on, when I was on my own, I found my school notepad, and began to write.

'I don't know why I want to find the phone...' I started. Then all of a sudden, there was this other voice in my head – as if I was having a conversation with myself.

I think you do, it said. So I wrote that down.

'Well, maybe... maybe to show I can do it again... to be a hero,' I wrote.

Yes – and other reasons.

'What reasons?'

I think you know.

I stopped and considered this. 'Well, if I'm honest, I want to prove this is real – not just a chance occurrence, like Klaus said.'

But you know it's not chance. Who do you want to prove this to?

'I suppose I want to prove it to the others.'

Why?

'You ask difficult questions.'

They're only difficult if you don't want to look.

'I do want to look – I want to find the phone!'

Mmm... interesting. So you still think that you're doing this... finding things?

'Well, I know I didn't find the bike...'

But you're acting as if you did. Perhaps you need to let go, and let me do it. I know where it is.

'Really?'

Why be so surprised? It's under her pillow.

Sunday 20

I was completely taken aback by my writings yesterday – gobsmacked in fact. Read it over several times, but didn't think I could show it to anyone else – not yet anyway. Couldn't wait to let Emma know about her phone. But being Sunday, I thought I'd have to wait until school tomorrow. Then my mobile rang – it was Emma!

"Teacher – don't worry about finding my phone..."

"Oh, I'm glad you called..."

"My mum suggested I phone my mobile to see if someone answers it..."

"I wanted to tell you..." I tried to say.

"But when I called the number from school, it just rang and rang..."

"I think you'll find that it's..."

"So I phoned it when I got home this weekend, and you'll never guess where it was."

I suddenly realised that I didn't need to tell her what I knew. So I just said, "Where was it?"

"Under my pillow!"

She told me how stupid she felt, and apologised for wasting my time. I said it didn't matter – I was just pleased that she'd found the phone. And suddenly, I felt a little bit more grown up.

Monday 21

Desperately wanted to tell Google about my writings today – since she was the one who told me how to 'talk to my Soul'. So I took her to the school coffee bar after lunch.

"You should do something with that," she said after I'd told my story.

"You mean my talent?"

"No, your coffee. The way you're waving it about, you're going to spill it. Anyway, it's not a talent, it's a gift – and gifts should always be used wisely. So what are you going to do with it?"

It was a good question. What was I going to do with it?

"I dunno... but not school–teaching, anyway."

"Good idea," she said. "You're not any good at being a teacher, from what I've heard."

"Who said that?" I replied indignantly.

"Your students," she said.

I had to admit she was right. I wasn't born for teaching.

"Don't put yourself down Simon," she said sympathetically. "You've found a connection with your higher self, and that is a wonderful thing... you should treasure it, and see where it leads you."

As we were leaving the coffee bar, she turned to me and said, "What about becoming a detective?"

A detective! How do you become one of those, I wondered? You probably need something like four years studying Criminal Justice or Psychology at university. And once you're qualified, you'd have to be a uniformed policeman first and walk the beat looking tough. No, that isn't for me. Decided I should ask Julie about it.

"You – a detective!" she laughed. "Simon, you can't even find your way home." Well ha–bloody–ha. "Sorry babe... but I can't see you in the Police Force," she added. But I had to admit that I couldn't either. And to be honest, I didn't think it would be any use learning techniques for crime solving when I had my own method.

"Well, what about being an amateur detective." I suggested, "like Sherlock Holmes, Philip Marlowe or... or..."

"Batman?" she suggested.

"Yeah."

Julie looked at me for a moment, and then smiled. "Can I be Robin?" she asked. I looked into those deep, round blue eyes that always made me melt into nothing.

"Of course you can Jules," I said.

But the truth was... I had someone else in mind for that role.

Tuesday 22

I did an adventurous thing today – and didn't tell Julie. Went to see Dr Wang to say I'd like to take up her offer and continue teaching at the school next year, but could I work part–time? "I thought you did work part–time?" she said. I told her that was when I worked in the Guidance Office – I was a maths teacher now. So she said she'd think it over and get back to me. Just as I was leaving her office, she asked what I was going to do with the rest of my time. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I just said "sleep". She seemed happy with that.

'Private Investigator' – I like the sound of that. Much better than saying 'Amateur Detective'. Am I really going to try to do this? Am I crazy? What will Mum and Dad say? Better not tell them yet. Anyway, I'm still going to work part–time, so even if I can't make a living as a P.I., I've still got dosh to live on... and Julie's still working too.

Took Google out to dinner after work – said I'd got something exciting to talk about.

"How d'you like to be my sidekick?" I asked.

"Side–kick?" she repeated. "What's the meaning?"

Told her I was seriously thinking of taking up her idea of being a detective, or private investigator, and needing an assistant.

"How much does it pay?" she asked.

I hadn't thought about that. In fact, I hadn't thought much about any sort of details – and that was one reason I needed Google. I considered this for a minute.

"I suppose it would depend on how much our clients pay us," I replied.

She looked pensive, and then said, "And what sort of things would we be investigating?"

"Oh, missing things, missing people, spying on couples... that sort of thing."

"Missing dogs?" she asked.

"Yeah, missing dogs, cats, hamsters..."

Her face lit up. Google really likes dogs. "Okay," she said, "count me in." Then she had a sudden thought. "What about murders?"

"Oh, I don't think so – not at first anyway. We'll work up to those."

Wednesday 23

Dr Wang came to see me today with some good news.

"Simon, I've just looked at the schedules for next year, and it will be fine to work part–time. David Gillespie only has a light timetable just now, so he can take on the other half of your maths teaching load."

I decided to tell Julie about my plan tonight... but I didn't know how to break the news that she wasn't going to be Robin. I was prepared for the worst – but you never know with Julie. "Oh, that's a good idea babe!" she said, turning away from the television for a millisecond.

"It is?"

"Yeah – Google can speak Chinese, I can't. You need someone who can speak the language. And when I have the baby, I'll be busy."

Baby?

Thursday 24

Mum phoned tonight to let me know the clocks are going forward this weekend. "Yes, I'm going forward too," I said.

"That's good," she replied. "You were always a very backward child."

That's my mum for you. Anyway, I decided there and then to tell her about my new career.

"A Private Eye? You mean like Philip Marlowe? I can't see you being one of those Simon, you always faint at the sight of blood – and you look nothing like Humphrey Bogart."

I did try to tell her that my aversion to seeing blood was my own (when she trapped my fingers in the car door when I was eight), and that looking like Humphrey Bogart was not actually a prerequisite for being a private investigator; but she didn't seem to be listening.

"How's Donald?" I asked.

"Oh you know... he's not getting any younger, but he does seem to be working later and later these days. It's hard to be dentist after you turn sixty... so many young bucks working night and day to make a living – and he thinks he has to compete with them. It's nice that he's got Samantha working with him."

"Samantha?"

"Yes, his assistant. Lovely girl – from the Philippines. She's only twenty–five – younger than you Simon."

I do worry about mum.

Friday 25

Julie asked me today how much longer I was going to write my Blog. "Just another ten minutes," I said.

"No, I mean how many more months."

I hadn't really thought about that. I'd just kept blogging along as if I was going to do it forever.

"Would you like me to bring it to a quick climax?" I said. She seemed to like the idea of that. Perhaps she's right – perhaps I should bring it to some sort of ending soon. But how?

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

"Can it end with us having a baby? You won't have time to write your blog once the baby arrives, anyway."

I had to do a double–take. She'd promised me last month that she was going to do all the work when she had the baby. I looked back in my blog to find the date. There it was: February 22.

"...if we can have a baby, you won't have to look after it at all. I'll feed it, clean it, get up when it cries – I'll do everything." I read this aloud to Julie.

"Simon, you're always writing what you want to hear, not what I say. I've told you this a million times."

"Are you still recording our conversations?" I asked.

"No, I stopped that a while ago," she said. "Your blog got boring."

"And when exactly did you stop the recordings?"

"February 21.

Saturday 26 /Sunday 27

Spent the whole weekend thinking about my future. Sometimes, in the past, it seemed like life was just about getting a better job, a better standard of living, finding the right girl, and (eventually) settling down with a family. Now that's all changed. The world has suddenly opened up, and I truly want to make a difference.

Monday 28

It was the Writers group meeting tonight, and Klaus turned up. Hadn't seen him there for a long time. "I thought you didn't like us, Klaussie?" I joked.

"No, I like everyone – even you Simon," he replied. "And I've brought something for the anthology."

And so he had. A Sci–Fi story called 'Mars Landing', which he'd copied and distributed to the group. In his story, a British Earth astronaut called Roger (who, it has to be said, is a bit of a plonker in the story) arrives on Mars with his German colleague Tobias. (Klaus told me later that Roger was based on me! He's got to be joking.) Anyway, at first, they find no signs of life. But then Roger disappears down a crater, falling into the mysterious world of the Martians, who live in cities below the surface. There he meets Perusha who takes him as her sex–slave. Fortunately, he's rescued by Tobias, who selflessly persuades Perusha to let him take Roger's place so Roger can go free. The story has everything in it you could ever ask for – except perhaps believability.

"Did you co–write this with Melissa?" I asked.

"Yah, how did you guess?"

"Just a hunch. Do you really think that life could exist on Mars?"

"Maybe – at one time in the past. Some people believe that life on Earth actually originated on Mars."

"So, we're all Martians then?" asked Maddy.

"Yah, maybe."

"Can't wait to get my hands on my sex–slave," said Melissa.

"What do you think, Simon?" Maddy asked.

"About being a sex slave? There's worse jobs. I think Klaus has written good Science Fiction."

Julie had been quiet for a while. Then she said, "Perusha should be a man."

"Come again?" I said.

"Perusha should be a man: men are from Mars, and women are from Venus."

"Right, but that would ruin the story, wouldn't it? I mean, you couldn't have Roger being taken as a sex slave by a Martian bloke..."

"Why not?" challenged Julie.

"Oooh, this is getting very interesting," said Melissa.

"And Roger could turn out to be gay," added Maddy.

As Jules and I returned home, I told her I might not go to the next meeting. "It's just getting very silly," I said.

She cuddled me. "You're right – and you're growing up Simon."

Tuesday 29

Decided to look for a publisher for my blog today. If I'm going to finish it soon, I really should find the lucky company that's going to make a fortune from my words of wisdom. Went online and found a dozen or so publishers that said they consider unsolicited manuscripts. (That's a bit like unsolicited sex, but the paper version.) Anyway, printed out half a dozen copies of the first fifty pages at school and posted them off to some promising UK publishers. Didn't send it to the USA as they haven't yet developed the part of the brain necessary to understand British humour.

"How long d'you think I'll have to wait for a reply?" I asked Google (she seems to know a bit about publishing). Could be up to five months, she told me. What! Then she explained: one month to get there, another to open the packet; a third month to decide which person to give it to; one more month for someone to read it, and the last month to get back to me. "I could have written another book in that time!" I exclaimed.

"Then why don't you?" she said.

Wednesday 30

During my maths lesson this morning, I let it slip that I could be published again. Only this time I didn't pretend it was in a maths journal and told them it was my Blog. The kids were very impressed that I'd written this entirely on my own.

"Can we read it?" a couple of them asked excitedly. I had to think about what I'd blogged about them – or about the school.

In the end, I just had to say, "Okay, you can read it – but then I'll have to kill you." The next thing I knew they were talking very quickly in Chinese to each other. Then one said,

"Okay Simon, we won't read."

(Note: I wouldn't really have killed my students.)

Thursday 31

The last day of March!

Read my Mystic Meg horoscope online his morning.

"Someone you work with may not see things the same way you do. Have the confidence to do your own thing. You work best when you follow your own ideas and instincts."

Well, the first part is certainly true (thinking back to the time when I found Google's bike, and Ron was having a laugh about it). And I think I do work best when I follow my own ideas and instincts. It seems that Mystic Meg has got me spot on. But Google saw it differently. "I don't think that's you," she said.

"But it seems to fit perfectly!"

"Yes, I agree – but you're reading the wrong horoscope. That's mine."

This is why I need Google.

What will April bring?

* * *

April

Friday 1

Got a big shock when I crawled out of bed this morning. Julie came out of the bathroom with a big, beaming smile.

"Simon, I'm pregnant!!"

I didn't know what to say. I just looked at her, then eventually managed a half–hearted, "Congratulations!"

"It was a joint effort," she pointed out. "I couldn't have done it without you, babe."

"Are you sure?" I said.

"This is biology Simon; you need an egg and a sperm..."

"No no... I mean, are you sure you're pregnant?"

"Absolutely positive, darling. So how do you feel?"

I looked for the right words.

"Well, it's wonderful... marvellous... great... fantastic... er..." But then it dawned on me. "Oh, it's April Fool's Day today, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is babe" she said.

It probably wasn't the best day to tell my students that I was only going to work part time next term.

"What you going to do rest of the time?" one student asked.

"I'm going to be a detective!" I announced. That was the most I've ever heard them laugh.

"Simon, you need to choose believable joke to fool us!" they exclaimed. I tried to explain that this was true, I was going to be a private investigator next term; but on April first, it wasn't going to wash. So I just told them that during the rest of the week I'd be shopping for four hours every day.

They found that easy to believe.

Saturday 2

Went downtown with Julie today to the Foreign Language Bookstore in Fuzhou Road. I was looking for books on how to become a private investigator. Found a couple: 'How to Be a Detective in Ten Easy Lessons', and 'Detectives for Dummies.' A third book, 'Delectable Detectives' caught Julie's eye (I should have been more careful taking the book off the shelf). It wasn't quite what I was looking for, but Julie bought it anyway.

Whilst we were in town, Julie told that this Thursday would be eight months since I began my Blog. And since eight is a lucky number in China, we should have a party to celebrate. "Great idea!" I said. "Let's stock up on some booze." Then I had a worrying thought. "Do we have to invite Sheila?" Julie nodded. "Better make it 'bring–your–own' then," I said.

Sunday 3

Decided to have the party on Friday instead of Thursday so everyone has the weekend to recover afterwards.

Julie has seemed awfully happy recently. She even offered to cook a meal for us this evening. "I thought you only knew how to eat?" I said, humorously.

"I know how to eat you," she said wickedly.

"I thought you were vegetarian?" I said.

"Sometimes, you remind me of a vegetable," she replied. I did wonder which one, but thought better not to ask and changed the subject.

"Do you think we should invite Dr Wang on Friday?"

"No, we should invite her on Monday and give her some time to think about it." She smiled at me. Actually, she glowed. I don't remember her being this humorous. Perhaps she's stopped taking her medication.

Monday 4

We invited everyone we knew from work to our Friday party (including Dr Wang). When I told Sheila it was bring–your–own–booze, she asked both Ron and Klaus if they could help carry hers. Klaus wondered if it was fancy dress. I said I was glad he asked, and yes it was. That should be interesting.

Tuesday 5

Three days to go to the party!

Wednesday 6

Two days to go to the party! Julie did offer to prepare the food for Friday; but what she really meant by 'prepare' was opening tins of things and heating them up. Not quite what I had in mind. So we've made it a pot–luck kind of thing where everyone brings their favourite food and we all share. Not much time for blogging just now.

Thursday 7

One day to go! Strange, but this feels a bit like the going away party Julie and I had before we left the UK. Does someone know something I don't?

Friday 8

The party!!!

Saturday 9

2 a.m. Well, where do I start? What a night!

Klaus won the best fancy dress costume award (the one and only). Why he chose to come as Princess Diana is anyone's guess, but I wish he'd shaved his moustache. Sheila was on top form, dancing and singing old ABBA songs at the top of her voice whilst swigging a bottle of something. Ron came in his Arsenal away shirt and subjected poor old Joey (from HR) to stories of the Gunners greatest victories for over an hour. In the end, Nigel (head of the Guidance Office), prized Joey away and chatted him up for the rest of the night. New maths teacher Dave Gillespie was cornered by Graham, and I'm sure I saw some money changing hands. After which, Davie was swept away by Sammy from Admin – disappearing into the spare room for a tete–a–tete – or whatever. Anyway, they seemed very happy when they came back (well, she did). Hamish had a very serious talk with Dr Wang for about twenty minutes, after which she said to me in passing, "Couldn't understand a word." Clive Morris (head of English) seemed very pleased to be chatting up Venus, until Sheila collared him for a duet of 'Dancing Queen'. And Julie sat talking to Princess Diana for quite a while. Which left me looking into Google's eyes and saying very little.

As the night wore on, I discovered that change was certainly in the air. Ron told me that he's moving to Thailand with Venus next term, where he'll be head of Biology at an international school in Bangkok. Sheila is going back to Australia with Clive (they're going to work in a private girls' school outside Brisbane), and Klaussie is off to the States to work on an Astrophysics research project.

"Aren't you going to miss the kids?" I asked him.

"Yah, I know I will. It vos a hard decision to go to America – the students are so great here." I have to say, it was hard to take him seriously in his Princess Di outfit.

"Won't you miss the other teachers as well?" I asked.

"Yah, sure – particularly Julie," he said wistfully looking over at her. "So how about you Simon – what are you going to do with yourself?"

"Oh, I'm going to be a private investigator," I said matter–of–factly.

"Really? I heard sumzing about that... but I didn't know it was true! That's a big change from being a teacher!" I told him I'd still be teaching part–time, and I was just going to see if I could do the detective thing – get it out of my system. Then Julie joined us. "And how about you, Julie – what are you going to do next term when Simon is solving crimes?"

"Me, I'm going to have a baby..."

"Yeah, but not for a while..." I qualified. She turned to face me.

"No Simon – I'm going to have a baby this year... I'm fucking PREGNANT!" She screamed the word 'pregnant' as ABBA sang 'Winner takes all'.

"You mean... you mean I'm going to be a father?"

She looked pensive for a second, then said, "Yeah babe... I think you are. I'm almost positive..."

And this time, it wasn't April first.

* * *
Postscript

"Simon, when you've finished your book, what will you sell it for?"

"Oh, I dunno Jules... maybe to tell people about Shanghai and China; to give them an insight into life in an international school; to let them know how I found Google's bike, and my journey after that... and how much I love you, of course."

"No, I mean how much will you sell it for?"

"Oh, maybe I'll just give it away."

"I think you need an Agent, Simon... and I love you too babe."

Surprise, Surprise by Julie.

Pink tiny hands

And tiny feet;

Twinkling eyes

Smile to greet.

Extraordinary senses,

Cry within an instant.

Mother dotes

On infant's needs.

Uncovers breast

And baby feeds.

New born being,

Made of thought.

Within the web

Of life it's caught.

Their souls are one,

And so entwined,

That after death

They'll always find

Each other.

