Wang Meiling's brother (as it turned out) had arrived not long ago at that point, and with his sister having gone off to China (got a job with a British company that sent her over), he had only me for a contact.
I'd invite him every now and then to the SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London) bar for a drink and a chat, even once to my flat for a Chinese beef stew meal (a mistake -- you don't cook Chinese food for a Chinese person: it's not going to pass the test).
Wang Meiling's brother rang up one day and went through the ritual: telling me what he'd been up to of late, which took up about 15 minutes of the call; then asking me what I'd been up to recently, which took up another 15 minutes or so.
Once the news about both sides was delivered, it was time to end the call.
He then said, "Oh oh, wait wait, I nearly forgot."
I thought, "No, you didn't nearly forget. You'd rung me precisely to ask me for a favour. You'd spent the last half hour of my time engaging in all this small talk, just as a cover up."
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