The road beside the canal was absolutely black as he pedalled slowly, fatigued, towards Kick Fish county, when he felt Bian Fu's arm slip around his waist and her head rest between his shoulder blades.

This was his woman. They were on their way home.

Everyone was sleeping in the house when he dropped her off.

On the way out of Kick Fish he had to piss, but when he came out of the public outhouse at the end of the alley there were two bright lights hovering , which lowered, and a male voice said, “Shei ya?”

Well, who was he?

He touched his nose, “Wo?”

They were two policemen, an older, stout one, frowning, and a younger, slim one, smiling. “Who are you?”, Stout repeated.

“I work at Jian Hua University. I am a Canadian.”

“Do you have your passport?”

“No.”

“What are you doing here so late at night?”

“I was accompanying my friend home from the bar.”

“Boyfriend or girlfriend?”

They were clearly at a new level here. He hesitated, and they saw him hesitate. He didn't want Bian Fu involved in this; but he was out of his depth. With his limited Chinese he could hardly lie to them convincingly. And why should he lie to the police? Which was, come to think of it, a distinctly un-Chinese thought.

“Girlfriend.”

“Let's go see her,” Slim said.

“Okay.”

“You must get off your bicycle,” said Stout.

As they walked back through Kick Fish, Slim was convivial, “You're not from Quebec are you?”

“No.”

“I knew some Canadians from Quebec once.”

“That's nice.”

They got to the door.

“Shei ya?” he heard Bian Fu's voice.

“It's me, and a couple of friends.”

Bian Fu didn't blink on seeing the two cops. They started a conversation in Chinese, and he could make out New Year's Eve, near Beida, my friend, bicycle. It all sounded quite reasonable.

Then they were going inside the Wang household. Thank God her mother's not here, Jeff thought. The uncle sat up under his covers, his eyes wide. Chen Jie slunk out from the big bedroom.

“And who are you,” Slim asked Bian Fu.

“I live here, this is my mother's place.”

Jeff felt cold all over. He was an ID card, a lousy hukou, away from going to jail. The policemen were obviously suspicious, perhaps thinking Bian Fu was a prostitute. They asked her where her mother was, why were they out so late “

“New Year's is a very important festival to Western people,” said Bian Fu.

Jeff offered Slim a cigarette.

Chen Jie cringed with her blankets wrapped tight round her.

“Let's see your ID,” said Stout.

Jeff's eyes focussed on nothing. Wang Bian Fu. Place of Registration: Hebei County. Marital Status: Married. Husband's Name: Han Han Han.

She went back in the bedroom and returned with her student card. Slim barely looked at it.

“Let's go, there's nothing here,” he said.

“You – we'll escort you out of the neighbourhood,” said Stout. He waved his torch.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” Jeff said.

“Zai jian,” said Bian Fu.

“You know,” said Stout, wheeling around and addressing them all, “a number of people have been killed in this neighbourhood lately. Everything we have done we have done for your safety.”

“For our safety,” they all repeated.

They took him to the highroad and told him to be careful. And that his Chinese was very good.