After a respectable pause, Straker got up and left the motor home. He had to get away from the humiliation. To walk off his anger. “How dare you?” he screamed — to himself, marching out of the paddock and into the crowds. He knew Sabatino was under stress; they all were. Interference from Massarella must have been taking its toll on her nerves, but so it was on everyone else’s. He was damned if he was going to be spoken to like that — let alone in front of other people.
Straker fumed.
His dealing with this and her conduct, though, was going to have to wait. His phone was ringing. It was Dominic Quartano.
Acting as a distraction to Straker’s uncalmed mood, the tycoon was flying into Milan that evening. Straker was asked to get himself and Nazar airside and ready to board the Quartech Falcon the moment it came to a standstill.
Straker spent some time arranging things, able to put the Sabatino issue out of his mind — at least for the time being.
Later that day, on board the company jet, Straker and Nazar were greeted by Quartano and Bernie Callom, Quartech’s Marketing and PR Director.
‘Welcome,’ said Quartano. ‘This trip to Shanghai should be momentous. Get it right and we should be on for signing Mandarin Telecom and landing the biggest sponsorship deal Formula One has ever seen. Let’s get you all a drink. Then, Tahm, you can tell me what went wrong for Remy this weekend.’
Straker sat silently in the cabin, not engaging with any of the subsequent conversation.
Quartano accepted the racing incident explanation. ‘Where does that leave us?’ he asked.
‘Still okay in the Constructors’ Championship,’ reported Nazar. ‘Remy and Luciano didn’t score here in Monza, even so Helli’s spirited second place to Barrantes’s seventh actually extended our Constructors’ lead. We’re on 94 as against Massarella — in second — on 87 points.’
‘So not a total disaster. And in the Drivers’ Championship?’
‘Tighter as a result of the weekend. Remy is still on top — with 56 — ahead of Aston, now in second, on 54.’
‘So just two points in it. And Luciano? Where’s he now?’
‘Still on 50, but back down to third.’
Quartano smiled and exhaled. ‘Three drivers covered by six points. Pretty close. We’re going to have to find some extra performance or consistency, soon, for us to break away.’
Following a refuelling stop in Dubai, the Quartech Falcon landed in Shanghai early the following evening. Monday. A limousine met the Ptarmigan party at the airport and drove them straight to the Four Seasons Hotel in Weihai Road.
Two hours later another car took them, through the dusk, from the hotel to their dinner engagement on the Bund. Driving through the city, the bustling energy of Shanghai and the Chinese people was clear to see. Streets were thronged. Neon signs were glowing in every direction. In the midst of all this bustle were striking juxtapositions of the ultra-modern with the traditional — the most obvious being the frequent sights of curved wooden Chinese rooftops in between huge expanses of glass and concrete.
Their car reached the Huangpu River as an orange sun set behind them. They turned north onto the Bund, the city’s western frontage along the river. Before them was a fantastic sight — full of diametric contrasts.
‘Here, on the left,’ Callom offered, ‘is the colonial city — I’ve been doing some reading for our promotional material. You’ll see the buildings are all pretty grand — baroque — from the time of Shanghai’s trading heyday. Most of the big European powers were here from the eighteenth century on — the British, French and Russians. This place boomed in the 1930s. With its style and buzz, Shanghai was even dubbed the Paris of the East. Over to the right,’ he said pointing through the opposite window, ‘look at the contrast! That’s Pudong.’
Straker looked across the river to the east. The architecture could not have been more different. A skyline as futuristic as he had seen anywhere in the world. Adding to the impact, most of the buildings carried vast neon signs stating the names of their occupants. Prominent among them was Mandarin Telecom’s sign and logo.
‘No carved columns or verdigris domes over here,’ Callom went on. ‘All the same, the buildings are pretty distinctive. The one with the ball top and bottom — that’s the Oriental Pearl Tower. And the tallest building is nothing less than the tallest building in the world — the Shanghai World Financial Centre. Welcome, gents,’ said Callom with a flourish, ‘to the world’s economic superpower. Twenty-five years ago all that area on the other side of the river was a paddy field.’
‘Is that all it took?’ asked Nazar. ‘You’d hardly see that kind of energy and drive in Europe,’ he added with a hint of provocation.
Straker thought of Canary Wharf, smiled — but didn’t take the bait. The car pulled up in front of M on the Bund.
Alighting in front of the restaurant, they made their way up through the historic Nissin Shipping Building. Mandarin Telecom had reserved exclusive use of the roof terrace. Their table was outstanding — laid up for just eight of them — on its own in the centre of the outdoor space. In the balmy evening breeze they were treated to views of sparkling lights — across the skyline of Pudong, among the boats plying the Huangpu River, and down the curved sweep of elegant colonial buildings fronting the Bund.
There to greet them was Dr Chen, flanked by some of his directors.
Quartano turned and gestured to Pudong. ‘The economic sensation continues,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed to see Mandarin Telecom’s name as the most prominent of the lights across the river.’
Dr Chen bowed his acceptance of the compliment. ‘Thank you, sir, we are pleased with our progress — domestically. With the prospective association between our two companies, we hope to develop just as fast internationally, going forward. We are looking to Ptarmigan and Formula One to accelerate our brand awareness around the world.’
‘An excellent thought on which to begin our evening.’
In deference to the Chinese culture of doing business, Quartano was careful only to react to topics of conversation and not initiate them. The protocols were keenly observed.
During dinner, the Quartech and Ptarmigan visitors were treated to multiple courses — Straker lost count of how many. Each one, it was explained, being a tribute to the culinary style distinctive of a different region of China.
Straker, returning to the Four Seasons quite late, found himself brooding — brooding over his unresolved tension with Sabatino back in Monza. Why the hell was this weighing on him so heavily?
As if he didn’t know the answer.
Straker couldn’t relax with all that occupying his mind. His hotel room felt like a prison. He had to get out. Setting out on a long run through the early hours, he only made it back to the Four Seasons as the first pinkish-orange light of dawn was breaking to the east.
A Mandarin Telecom car arrived at nine to take the Ptarmigan party across town — and across the river — to the headquarters building in Pudong.
Arriving at the foot of the forty-eight-storey glass tower, there was a sign welcoming the visitors flanked by two enormous arrangements of orchids.
‘That’s very symbolic,’ whispered Callom. ‘Orchids mean fertility — implying abundance, growth and prosperity.’
‘Did you learn that through your research, Bernie, or did you just happen to know that anyway?’ asked Nazar mischievously.
An elegant thirty-something Chinese woman appeared wearing an immaculate dark suit, a Mandarin Telecom logo tastefully embroidered into the lapel of her coat. She introduced herself as Dr Chen’s assistant and asked the visitors to follow her to the lifts.