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Leeds. Leeds was the only big club that really deserved to be back in the Premier League. After all, they had been one of the original twenty-two clubs that had voted to form the Premier League. And I could see no real reason why, with the right amount of investment, Leeds – the sleeping giant of the Championship – could not be the great team they had once been. It had worked for Manchester City. Elland Road was already the second largest football stadium outside the Premier League, with almost 38,000 capacity. That was bigger than White Hart Lane.
    At Pudong International Airport I was met by an Oddjob-type driver and one of Jia’s beautiful PR girls, who escorted me back to the Hyatt. The girl’s name was Dong Xiaolian and she spoke perfect, unaccented English. In the back seat of Jia’s Rolls-Royce she told me of the schedule of events that lay ahead of us that day. It all sounded very exciting but even before the car was moving things started to go wrong. She handed me an email from Tempest sent to the hotel which confirmed what I suspected: that the million pound signing-on fee had still not been paid.
    ‘In the afternoon we have a press conference at the hotel with all the major Chinese media,’ explained Dong. ‘I will be your interpreter. I have a Master’s degree in English literature. I am self-employed and you should regard me as being at your personal disposal while you are in Shanghai. At least until you can find a full-time interpreter. Which I am also prepared to do. I will do anything you want me to do, Mr Manson. Anything at all. Anything. You will only have to ask.’
    ‘There is something,’ I said. ‘I haven’t been paid. There was a signing-on fee of one million pounds which hasn’t yet appeared in my account. It was supposed to have been paid by the time I arrived here in Shanghai.. Which is disturbing, to say the least.’
    ‘I shall speak to Mr Jia about this immediately we get to the hotel,’ said Dong.
    ‘Thank you.’ I glanced over the schedule she had given me. ‘What’s this here?’ I asked. ‘A medical? I’m going to manage, not play.’
    ‘Before you start work you must have a medical examination to make sure that you don’t have Ebola or HIV.’
    ‘You’ve got to be joking.’
    ‘Don’t worry, it’s standard practice for all African men who wish to work in China.’
    ‘I’m not African,’ I said. ‘I’m British. Or, to be one hundred per cent accurate, Scots-German. On my passport it says that my place of birth is Edinburgh. That’s Edinburgh in Scotland, not Edinburgh in South Africa. And I’m certainly not going to have a test for Ebola and HIV. You can forget about that for a start.’
    ‘A black man who comes from Scotland? This is a subtlety that Chinese people and more importantly the Chinese authorities will not understand. The tests are mandatory, I’m afraid. Chinese people think all black men have Aids. And now Ebola, too. It will be necessary for you to obtain a work permit in China to show that you are not a health hazard.’
    ‘This is insulting,’ I said.
    ‘Nevertheless, it is the law. All foreigners but especially blackies who play for Chinese football clubs have to be tested. Please understand that I don’t think you have Aids or Ebola. I should certainly not be sitting in the car with you if I thought you had Ebola. Not for one minute. Nor should I have offered to sleep with you if I thought you had HIV.’
    I shook my head. ‘Did you offer to sleep with me?’
    ‘Of course. That is what I’m paid to do.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘As well as being an interpreter I am also an escort. And don’t worry, I had an HIV test yesterday, so you could be quite sure I am one hundred per cent healthy. I will show you the certificate when we get to the hotel.’
    ‘There won’t be any need for that, Dong. Look, I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding between us. I think you’re very nice but the only service I require from you will be to