She took me back to Malaysia last year, a place I had left aged 18. It was a nostalgic journey.

She phoned me at the end of June. We were still in the middle of lockdown and to my amazement, she was in London. I had no idea that flights were coming from Hong Kong. She had escaped just before the new law from China inhibited civil liberties. She never wants to go back. ‘oh, come here!’ I said and forgot Covid 19. She stayed in London for two weeks but not quarantining as she got here a day before this was stipulated! She did come here, but stayed in the other part of the house for two weeks. I fed her in the garden even in the rain! Week three, she came into my part of the house and this was when I realised that we had some cross -cultural misunderstanding. We went for walks each day up on the Downs with beautiful views. On the first day, she wanted to turn the radio off in the kitchen as we were going out. ‘No, no, that’s my burglar alarm!’ I said airily. The next morning as I came downstairs, she was standing uncertainly in the kitchen. ‘I didn’t like to take the washing off the rack because I thought it might set the alarm off,’ she said with a look of fear as she stared at the silent radio. The following day, I came downstairs to find a whole pigs’ liver, half a chicken and what looked like half a pig defrosting in the washing up bowl. ‘I am going to make you soup for lunch.’ I looked at the pile of meat and felt slightly nauseous. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll eat the meat.’ Really? I have a problem with a dry mouth and she had contacted her aunt in Australia, who told her to make this soup for me that would help my secretions. It was a kindly move, but I did not realise that she had no idea how to cook, and I think must have misinterpreted her aunt’s instructions. Eventually a soup came, it was watery with a subtle flavour and full of carrots and it did not help my condition. Where did all the meat go? She was fascinating, and on the autistic spectrum. She would switch from such child- like behaviour to massively high intelligence. Her passion was economics, although she has a PhD in town planning and worked in the Hong Kong government in that field. Whenever we walked and she saw a dog, baby, butterfly or bird. She would wave and say, ‘Hello, doggy, hello baby, hello bird, hello butterfly.’ People would look somewhat askance. Yet, as we talked over our evening meal, I became amazed at her intelligence. Such wonderful theories about the economics of the future. Also, her view on present day politics was so interesting. Yet at times she almost went into the realms of science fiction. I was honoured by the experience. As quickly as she arrived, she left, after a month. She has now gone to Oxford and is living in halls at the university. She has just met a Fellow of Oxford a clinical psychologist and barrister but has only known her for a week and wants to introduce her to me! She has gone, and I miss that person that waved at birds, babies, butterflies and dogs. I feel this country needs her, if a niche can be found for her brilliance.