The Chemical Cocktail by Fiona Erskine

Author:Fiona Erskine
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780861540341
Publisher: Oneworld Publications

4

Sapiranga, Vale dos Sinos, Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil

Jaq emerged from the regional airport of Porto Alegre where a driver was waiting for her, displaying a card with ‘Dr Silver – Tecnoproject’ and underneath the stylish logo of the company Transform.

Bruno had been vague about Marina’s requirements, asking Jaq only if she’d be willing to fly to Porto Alegre in the south and spend five days in Sapiranga, a town nearby. As the Curitiba safety study work still hadn’t come through, and there were further delays at the Cuperoil refineries in São Paulo and Salvador, Jaq didn’t feel she had an option to refuse. And once her boss agreed that she could add a weekend of personal time to the mission it seemed the perfect opportunity.

But why all the secrecy? All Bruno would tell her was that Marina was involved with a newly formed spin-off from her family’s venerable shoe company, with its only factory in the far south of Brazil.

It took a while for Jaq’s luggage to arrive. She preferred to travel light, but when visiting one of the premier fashion brands in Brazil, she’d packed for all eventualities.

As they left the airport, the rain started. It grew heavier as they drove out of the city, great grey sheets lashing the car. Jaq could see nothing of the countryside, and the drops of water drumming onto the car roof and splashing up from the road made it difficult to hold a conversation. The rain eased as they approached Sapiranga.

‘Paulo suggested I show you the hotel before we go to the factory.’

‘Paulo?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I always forget he calls himself Marina now.’ The driver shook his head. ‘I’ve known him since he was born.’

So, Marina was born a man.

The driver wrinkled his nose as the car drew up outside a featureless concrete block.

‘We don’t have many hotel options; this is the best of a bad bunch. Is it OK?’

‘All I need is a shower and a bed.’

‘I’ll wait here while you check in.’

It was a short drive from the hotel to the factory. Outside the rather grim industrial town, the landscape opened up into suburbs of generous houses: German-style chalets and Italian classical villas set in landscaped gardens. The driver turned off the main road and drove up an avenue of young trees. Automatic gates opened to reveal a vast emerald-green lawn. In the centre, on the top of a slight hill, stood an ultramodern block, a riot of glass and brightly painted concrete, unexpected curves and sharp angles, the company name and logo Transform illuminated with coloured neon lights.

Marina – immaculately turned out in a cream linen skirt suit, pink blouse and matching stilettoes – came down the steps to meet her.

‘Bemvindo!’

‘Quite some place you have here.’

‘My great-great grandparents started the business.’ Marina led the way to her office on the top floor, with a spectacular view over the river valley.

‘Right here?’

‘They started up in the town. My grandparents bought this land to expand, but the business got into difficulties in the 1980s, a time of hyperinflation in Brazil, and it remained moribund for years.

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