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November 6

V rang this morning he rarely calls on a Saturday. Usually takes his kids to his ownprivate zoo or something. I bet hes got one (a private zoo I mean) after all hes got at

least one of everything else; Europes most ecologically friendly hotel for instance, the

airport next to it, a prawn farm in Germany, a yacht, an apartment in LA, a prison-ful ofinmates in Vietnam, a recycling plant and a world-wide radio station, just to name a few.

Last time he called me on a Saturday morning, he was trying to flog me one of theecological apartments he was building in Glasgow.

He is one of the richest men in Britain, up there in the gilded stratosphere where the likes

of Alan Sugar and Mohammed Al Fayed float. But unlike them, nobodys heard of him.

Not that hes a low profile kind of a person he is one of the noisiest, most unruly and

tempestuous people you could ever meet. He bullies, threatens, cows, scoffs, insults and

undermines but unlike the man who used to be my father, he nurtures, he cajoles, hecharms.

Sometimes, I find him difficult to talk to. He talks as fast as a revved-up car, making his

Euro accent sound clipped and harsh.

Sometimes his very presence over powers me and I lapse into silence. And silence can be

like a dark room to him. He flits to where the light is.

More often than not I am left exhilarated and confused by him.

He once asked me how to get a mention in the FTsRich List. I told him you need apersonal fortune of at least 50million and you need to be a British citizen. I told him thatwas why Rupert Murdoch never appears, because hes Australian.

V looked glum and said hed confirm his citizenship and add up his money.

Two days later, I spoke to him. He growled: Im up to 582million but Im still

counting!

He never pursued the FTRich Listthough. I dont know why.

Do you know, the first thing he ever said to me was: You look like the kind of guy whoknocks on an open door.

And do you know what? He was right.

So, when he rang this morning I went for it like it was his jugular: Hey, V I gotta a way

for you to make a million!

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Fack arrfff what tha fack I wan with ano-verr million?

(Statistically, a tenner has as much meaning in my life as a million has in his).

Buy my land off me!

How much land choo got?

A third of an acre

You won get many ouses on there!

I think I can get nine a mews development.

He was silent for a split second.

Come and see me with a plan. We can do a deal.

Then I had a truly entrepreneurial thought - what if V bought out G too? I could make himmore than a million then I could make him maybe three! And a few extra quid for me

too!