I waited for about half an hour. Another secretary came out of the room behind the first one and said:
‘Miss Stone will see you now.’
I went through. The first thing I saw was the view of the harbour I had been expecting. From so high up Kowloon looked very close, as if I could take a big jump and cross the harbour in one leap. Then I saw Miss Stone. She was talking on the telephone. The secretary showed me to a leather seat opposite her desk. There were black-and-white photographs on the walls of people with bad teeth who looked like circus performers. On the desk where people keep pictures of their family was a photograph of a car. It was a silver Mercedes SLK.
‘I have to tell you I don’t think this one’s going to fly. Yeah, me too. We’ll talk later.’
She put down the telephone and stood holding out her hand.
‘Matthew. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to seem like the killer bimbo from planet Zorgon but they put that call through just as Janice went to get you and I had to take it. So good to see you, you’re looking wonderfully well. Has anyone offered you a refreshing beverage? Don’t have a coffee, I swear they make it with harbour water. How’s the family? Janice, can you bring me a Perrier?’
‘I like these photographs,’ I said.
‘Arbus. Weege. They add a note of freak chic. From the Hong Kong point of view, the main thing about them is that they’re outlandishly expensive.’
‘I like these chairs also.’
‘They’re from the Conran shop in London. Or rather one of them is. I had it knocked off. I’ve got a couple more at home. Now – I’ve read your business plan. It seems okay. So what can I do for you?’
I made a slow breath in and out. I could hear my father-in-law standing in the garden shouting at his t’ai chi students: ‘Good breathing, good chi! Bad breathing, no chi! You die!’
‘The thrust of our business is to expand energetically into China.’
‘Sure. Like I said, I’ve read the plan.’
‘We have encountered certain difficulties which are not described there.’
I explained the position.
‘The figures in our plan are, I believe, exceptionally cautious. This could be an enormous business. However, we have some short-term difficulties. Specifically, an important contract, one that guarantees our company’s future, has fallen through in Guangzhou. A change in local politics has caused a change in local rules. You will be familiar with the phenomenon. We need advice, support, and subsequently further investment, to help resolve the situation. We need more friends in Guangzhou, Beijing, and’ – I coughed – ‘Shanghai. In short we need a new partner.’
She listened in a different way from how she had listened when she was a journalist. More aggressively. When I finished she sat pressing her fingers together.
‘So the bottom line is, you need a big brother in China. Someone to open doors, run interference. Someone with more juice than the people who are jamming you up.’
‘A partner and ally.’
‘A bigger gorilla.’
I jumped. She smiled. ‘It’s an expression people are using. And in return?’
‘Equity. A share of our business. It will be a big business, even a very big business, one day. Even by Mr Wo’s standards. We are sure of that.’
It was the first time either of us had used his name. I was raising the stakes.
‘You know I don’t work directly with Mr Wo. My boss is Philip Oss.’
‘You have guanxi, I know that. You’re an extremely important person in the organisation. I know that the introduction to Mr Wo is within your gift.’
She moved about in her chair. Then she said:
‘Okay, you’re on. As I said, I looked at your numbers and they seem pretty good. The thing is, there’s a time factor. He’s off to London tomorrow evening to buy a mobile-phone company. That’s a secret, by the way. Then he’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks more. So it’s this afternoon or never. I’ve spoken to his secretary and got you a slot at three. That’s in about’ – she looked at her watch – ‘oops, it’s less than half an hour. At his office. You know where it is?’
Everybody in Hong Kong knew that. It was the top floor of this same building. I did not know what to say.
‘How long should I allow for the meeting?’
‘If it goes well, who knows. If it doesn’t, you’ll be back on the street in two minutes. And just so you know, I won’t be there. This one’s all on you. Good luck.’
‘Thank you. I say again, I’m –’
‘One last thing. Now this really is between us. When I was a journalist back in England, I once had an editor who was mad about electronic devices. We used to say about him, “If he can’t fuck it or plug it into the mains, he isn’t interested.” Now, if you omit the bit about sex, and replace the mains with a modem, that’s Mr Wo. At the moment, it’s all the new economy with him. So come up with an angle.’
*
I went downstairs and walked around for fifteen minutes to try and calm my nerves. I called my partner but his mobile phone was only taking messages. Then I took the lift up to the sixtysecond floor. It was a separate lift which went to that floor only and I had to wait while a guard in the lobby rang to confirm my appointment.
I was expecting the best view of the harbour I had ever seen. But when I came out on the sixty-second floor I was disappointed. There was no direct view to a window. There was no sense of where I was. The office could have been anywhere.
The first receptionist led me through, introduced me to a second receptionist, and sat me down to wait. Again there was a big selection of magazines published by Wo family companies. There were two large framed photographs of oil tankers on one wall, and on another an electronic map of the world with the countries in which the Wos had an investment picked out in red. Almost all of the map was red. It was tempting to work out what the investments were. I could think of most of them: property, shipping, media. For a moment I could not think why most of South America was red. Then I remembered that Wo had recently bought a big share in the main Spanish-language Internet portal.
My previous experience had led me to expect a significant wait. There seemed to be a correlation between a person’s sense of their own importance and how late they were. But at exactly 3 o’clock the door opened and a young Chinese man came out.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Ho. I am Quentin Hong, Mr Wo’s assistant. May I invite you to follow me?’
I went into Wo’s office. Again there was no view. The drapes were drawn. A man sat in an armchair at the far side of the room and got up as I entered. It was Wo. He looked much smaller and frailer than he did in photographs. He pointed to a chair across from him. He was wearing thick tinted glasses.
‘Mr Ho, has anyone offered you a drink?’
‘I have no need of one, thank you, Mr Wo.’
His assistant sat in a straight-backed chair to one side of and behind Wo. He took out a pen and notepad. Wo took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked at the paper he had in his lap. It was the covering letter from my business plan. I had time to look around the office. There was a beautiful ornate kimono hanging on one wall, and above it a pair of Japanese swords in a display case. Across from the desk, near the door where I had come in, was a Go set with a position from a game set out on it. The room was lit with soft overhead lights and two desklamps, one of them beside Wo’s chair. He noticed me looking around.
‘I am having some trouble with my eyes,’ he said. ‘Daylight hurts them. Hence this arrangement.’
He went back to reading. I had been expecting more force and energy from him, but Wo seemed to be a mild man. Any fire was hidden. He did not act like a tycoon or a multi-billionaire. I realised that was probably because he had no need to.
He put the letter down. ‘Miss Stone spoke to me. Good figures,’ he said. ‘Can I believe them?’
‘Yes sir, I think so. China is a source of enormous potential opportunities for our company. As you know, it is
extremely hot all over the country in summer. Air conditioning is scarce. When it comes, it could make as much difference as it did, say, to the south of the United States.’ I had used that line before. It was always effective. ‘We make the best industrial air-conditioning units in the world. Further down the line, as China’s economic growth continues at the current rate, the wealth of the country will double every six or seven years. That means in twelve years’ time the average Chinese will be four times richer than he is today. There are currently 1.2 billion Chinese. Taking these facts together we have here, in my opinion, the most important business opportunity in the history of mankind. I believe that in the medium term we are well positioned to sell an almost inconceivably large number of units.’
‘But if your Guangzhou deal falls through …’
‘Then no, you can’t believe the figures. Our company will collapse.’
He nodded. ‘So perhaps I should invest in the company who will get the contract in your stead.’
‘I am sure that whoever has your backing will prove successful,’ I said.
‘It would certainly make life a lot simpler if that was true,’ he said, turning slightly to look at his assistant, who was smiling.
‘But less interesting, perhaps,’ I said.
He looked at me again. ‘Where are you from?’
‘Sir, I was brought up in Mongkok, but now my mother and wife and daughter –’
‘I meant before that. You have an accent.’
‘Sir, I was born in Fujian. I came here when I was eight, in 1974.’
‘That can’t have been easy,’ he said in Fujianese. I had not spoken the language in more than twenty-five years. I said:
‘No, sir, it was not.’
Wo smiled.
‘Well, well, a country boy. My father was from Fujian too. He said they always made the best pirates and the best businessmen, but that the Cantonese made the best whores, the best cooks, and the worst mothers-in-law.’
‘My mother-in-law lives in Australia.’
‘It sounds as if you have things arranged correctly. Still drink much Oolong tea?’
‘Yes sir. I bring it back when I go to China.’
‘Too strong for me. Makes me pee all the time. My father used to love it. Said it keeps a man thin. You have that skinny look.’
‘It’s partly the tea, and partly worry about our business, sir.’
‘Ah yes – business,’ said Wo. He tapped the plan, in its plastic folder, on his knee twice. ‘You know all the talk about the future. China this, China that. Also the Internet this, the Internet that. My companies have many areas of interest, but this is now my main concern, you understand? The future. Other people study the past. I concentrate my efforts on the future. This is a good business on this piece of paper, but I see many many ideas for good businesses. The ones which interest me are about the future. About a different world. So tell me how this fits your proposal.’
Wilson had given me a line about this, which I had used when we were raising money from banks.
‘Sir, the new economy means lots of big computers. Mainframes. Especially in China where there are so few. Internet systems, relay switches. One thing they all produce is heat. A great deal of heat. The kind of heat that you have to make go away with an air conditioner. If China gets a new economy, it will need a lot of air conditioning. Why else do they keep running out of power in California, sir?’
It was interesting: as I got Wo’s attention he seemed to slow down. He showed less reaction, not more.
‘… so an Internet economy means very many air conditioners. Somebody will make them. If not us, somebody else. But I would like it to be us.’ He did not react. He was looking down. I struggled hard not to keep talking into the silence. He thought for perhaps a minute and then said:
‘I will vouch for your business plan to my friends in Guangzhou. If the deal goes ahead, we will be partners.’
His assistant stood up. I did too. This time, Wo did not.
‘A Fujian boy, eh?’ he said. ‘Good for you.’
The assistant led me out. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘That’s the first pitch I’ve heard him say yes to in a year.’
I said, ‘I can’t feel my legs.’
The lift was like free fall. I went out into the road and a taxi missed me by a few inches. I took the overhead walkway back into Central. I had my mobile phone in my briefcase but did not want to call anyone yet. I felt as if I had done enough talking.
It was a sunny day and not too humid. I took my jacket off. I walked past the old government offices, across the road, and went through the park where the cricket ground used to be. There were many people sitting and talking and listening to music. I walked past Legco and across Statue Square and into Prince’s Building to find a café. I was beginning to panic about what I would say to my grandfather. I went to a wine shop to buy him a present and then I walked to the ferry terminal and bought a ticket for Cheung Chau.
I called the office from the ferry. Ah Wong answered.
‘Wei?’
‘He said yes.’
Wong whooped. I could hear him call to the others. There was cheering. ‘You are a big hero. Now what?’
I realised that I didn’t know. ‘His people are setting it up. They’ll be in touch. Listen, I’m not coming back to the office today. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Don’t forget,’ Wong said. ‘One hundred million US.’
‘I thought you’d forgotten.’
‘No you didn’t.’
Then I called my wife.
‘Hello?’
‘He said yes.’
She let out a very long sigh. It was as if she had been holding her breath since the last time I saw her. ‘So when are you coming home?’ she said.
‘Soon as I can. But first –’
‘You’ve got to tell Grandfather.’
‘Yes. I’m nervous.’
She let out a sigh almost as long as the first one. ‘Good luck.’
*
The people who took the ferry were different at this time of day. It was something I had noticed before. After work and in the morning the traffic is all commuters. But this ferry was full of tourists and people who had jobs with irregular hours.
The harbour was rough, and one or two people looked as if they were feeling sick. I stood in the air for about twenty minutes, and then when I had filled my lungs with the breeze and the smell of the harbour I went back inside. In the cabin, three boys were crowded together trying to watch The Matrix on a portable DVD player. All three of them were wearing caps with the Nike swoosh.
We came in past the fish farms. Because it was only afternoon, the restaurants around the little harbour were quiet. The night fishermen had not gone out yet and the day fishermen had not returned. I bought a South China Morning Post and set off up the hill to give Grandfather my news.
I knew he would be upset. But I would tell him that I did it because I am a refugee. I had no choice. The future is more important than the past. I did it because I am a refugee.
About the Author
John Lanchester was born in Hamburg in 1962. He has worked as a football reporter, obituary writer, book editor, restaurant critic, and deputy editor of the London Review of Books, where his pieces still appear. He is a regular contributor to the New Yorker. He has written three novels, The Debt to Pleasure, Mr Phillips and Fragrant Harbour, and two works of non-fiction: Family Romance, a memoir; and Whoops!: Why everyone owes everyone and no one can pay, a book about the global financial crisis. His books have won the Hawthornden Prize, the Whitbread First Novel Prize, E. M. Forster Award, and the Premi Llibreter, been longlisted for the Booker Prize, and been translated into twenty-five languages. He is married, has two children and lives in London.
Copyright
First published in 2002
by Faber and Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2011
All rights reserved
© John Lanchester, 2002
Maps © John Flower, 2002
The right of John Lanchester to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–26809–2
Fragrant Harbour Page 33
