The three facts many people in Hong Kong immediately recount about Elaine Sung are that she is a former Miss Hong Kong, she has her own public relations business and she is married to French racehorse trainer Patrick Biancone. Biancone, you may remember, was suspended for 10 months on the first day of the season, last September, after positive dope tests on two of his horses. Although he denied any involvement, the Jockey Club insisted the responsibility for what went on in his stables resided ultimately with him. So he trotted off to the United States and is working in California for Canadian billionaire breeder Frank Stronach.
Sung will follow him next month, reluctantly. 'It's a drastic change,' she sighed, looking wan but lovely across the table at Va Bene, Central, where we met for dinner recently. 'He's in demand there, I can see he has a bright future ... to my surprise.' Why is that surprising? 'There are a lot of very good trainers already in America,' observed Sung, who evidently doesn't believe in churning out any old blarney (and indeed, when it later transpired that I'm Irish, she cried, 'Dublin or Glasgow? We went to Dublin once for the weekend, sooo boring.') Anyway, she ordered some food, advised me to revert to my old hairstyle, smoothed her own Japanese-process-straightened hair, took a pill ('antacid'), glanced rapidly around the restaurant - as she did throughout the interview - and talked about the day of the suspension. 'I felt like jumping from the 11th floor,' she said. 'Patrick rang me in the office and said he was jobless. And I said, gee, he's lost his job, what about me? I don't know how my clients will take this - I'm in the image business, you know? I was very shaky too.' Luckily, the important people stuck by her ('I was still doing Prada, they didn't doubt my credibility'), and the Hong Kong public's affection has not wavered. 'I think it would be difficult to acclimatise in the States. I'm someone here. I get all these privileges, people spoil me, they give me a good discount and say, 'How is Patrick?' and I'm so happy they don't doubt him. It's like accusing me of stealing a bag from Chanel, it's ridiculous.' I was entranced by this vision of Hong Kong devotion, so Sung elaborated: 'People like me because they grew up with me. I think they have respect for a golden oldie. I remember, after winning Miss Hong Kong, people would rush out from the pastry stores to get a glimpse of me. I couldn't take the bus. I felt, gee, was I really that great?' That first Miss Hong Kong contest was in 1973, when Sung was 17. It was the first organised by TVB, and (oh, the quaint innocence of it) the governor, Sir Murray MacLehose, was guest of honour and received a standing ovation. 'It was something for a teenager,' marvelled Sung. 'They'd throw these ridiculously challenging questions.' Like what? 'They asked me if I became Miss Hong Kong, whom would I pick as a room-mate for Miss World? I said Miss England because I was so familiar with the habits of the British.' As it turned out, she didn't go to London for the Miss World contest because she didn't do terribly well in the intervening Miss Universe contest in Athens, 'and after you've won one title, you don't like to be defeated'. So she married a television producer, a union which lasted two years, followed by an estate agent by whom she has a son, Yiu-yeung, known as Y.Y., now 10. That marriage lasted five years. She married Biancone in France in 1994, and they have a daughter, Andie, who is three. From July, both children will be based in California.
Biancone was married, with two daughters, when he met Sung. 'Yes,' she agreed, when I alluded delicately to this. 'But in a very unhappy marriage. You know, life is never a bowl of cherries, never has been.' Biancone was special, apparently, because of his unusual socks. 'Very transparent, like stockings, I'd never seen men wearing these before. I thought, gee, this person must lead an interesting life. I'm a person that's so intuitive! I just felt I'd like to follow him, come what may. He opened a new chapter in my life. Before, I never knew what a horse-trainer was, I mixed him up with a ringmaster.' At this point, Biancone rang from California and the couple spoke for about a minute. Afterwards Sung said, 'I think Hong Kong is a faded glory, we have to let the past be behind and move forward. I will just commute between America and Hong Kong - two weeks here, two weeks there - until I look like Mrs Crocodile.' Almost immediately, however, she leaned forward and said, 'I don't want to leave. I feel so happy when the maitre d' gives me a seat by the window. I'm the least adventurous person, I like old friends, old shoes, I can watch the same video for three months.' I presumed she was exaggerating until she told me that every night she climbs into her four-poster bed in Ho Man Tin and watches a BBC video of Jane Austen's Pride And Prejudice - specifically, the thrilling part when Colin Firth, as Mr Darcy, immerses himself in a convenient lake. That is one of the great moments of 20th-century television, but it takes an unusual level of dedication to view it so devotedly. (Mind you, Sung told me she once spent a weekend in a New York hotel during which she watched Top Gun 16 times.) 'I'm going to take a lot of BBC videos,' she said of her impending move. 'I love, love Austen, she's very close to my heart, I think she has a lot of class. You can become very classless here - when you tint your hair too light or read too many trashy magazines. I don't want to be like that. I try to be a woman of substance. I don't know if this is too Platonic, but this is how I feel.' She's thinking of moving on from the PR business - 'now every good-looking person with a beauty title has a company' - into a new venture. I said I didn't see how she was going to fit everything in, what with relocating to California and reorganising family life, but Sung said, 'Do you believe in the work ethic? When I play one round of mahjong, I feel so sad, so guilty, so decadent. Every minute counts now.' So she plans to host an etiquette seminar for female office workers in the Convention and Exhibition Centre. 'In Hong Kong, some ladies dress so nicely and behave so atrociously,' said Sung briskly. 'Not everybody has the training to be a beauty queen, right? What I've been taught is very valuable. It's for life.'
