The Philanthropist's Tale by Laurie Marsh

Book extracts, talking points, editorial ideas and interviews

What makes a multi-million pound entrepreneur feel so "repulsed" by the high-flying business world that he turns his back on it all to become one of the biggest - and possible the most under the radar - philanthropists in the country? We'd like to share with you some extracts from this new book - The Philanthropist's Tale.

But first, a little background to this enigmatic character! At the age of 86, Laurie Marsh has decided to tell the true tale of his own rags to riches story; from his raincoat start-up to building a booming property empire. What led to him becoming super-rich and then shun the business world in favour of a life of philanthropy on a major scale? His new book, The Philanthropist Tale published by Urbane Publications, documents the colourful life of one of the UK's most successful, but widely unknown, entrepreneurs and philanthropists. Laurie shares how he felt when his micro business became a mega business, the challenges associated with growth and the tough decisions he had to make along the way. His story is packed with glamour as well as board rooms. It's an inspirational, telling and informative read for any entrepreneur or business man/woman looking for direction and who is keen to learn from someone who has most definitely been there and got the t-shirt (or raincoat in Laurie's case!).

The extracts below are available for reproduction, as well as images, copies of the book for review / competition prizes. For more information please contactHelenLewis@LiterallyPR.comorSamuelBatt@LiterallyPR.com. Laurie Marsh is currently open to interviews (live/pre-rec/email/face-to-face) and editorial commissions on the subjects of philanthropy, entrepreneurship, property, saving theatres, working with the NHS, politics and business.

On the start of a raincoat empire
As soon as I had completed my spell in the army I moved straight into the unit in Home Parade and, perhaps optimistically, called my new raincoat company Raincheque.

My first consideration was how to get noticed. Pacamac had done a nice job, but if I wanted to make a name for myself, then I needed to try something a bit different.

Plastic, I thought to myself,what is different about plastic? It was a completely new material and felt quite modern, almost ‘space age'. Even though it was almost a decade before Yuri Gagarin first went to space, the possibility of future space travel was on everyone's mind.What about a space suit?

In a matter of days I had mocked-up a couple of children's space suits out of black and silver plastic. I even managed to locate clear-fronted helmets to go with them. They looked fantastic. I collared a couple of photogenic kids from Lambeth Walk and I exhibited at a trade show being held in The Agriculture Hall, Vauxhall. To my absolute delight, a press photographer took a snap of the kids in their suits. A few days later, there I was, peering out of the pages of the South London Press, with a space-suited child either side of me. Priceless.

I was on a roll now. I could see that the fantasy market inspired people, particularly when it came to children. I made Noddy and Big Ears outfits based on the characters from Enid Blyton's much-loved books. Next, I produced a PC49 uniform, in tribute to the popular radio show of the time, celebrating Alan Stranks, PC49. I even added little felt hats and labels on the front to complete the ensemble. Over time I created 35 different product ranges and I still have my secret ledgers today with detailed notes of how I costed them all. A couple of salesmen were engaged to do the rounds of all the toyshops in the Capital and the stores snapped them up. In no time at all, I was employing a dozen machinists in the Hone Parade unit. It was quite hard work, taking orders, running the production side and then making sure everything went out on time. Even though it was early days and I was a business novice and my expectations were high, I was constantly a bit worried that I wasn't making very much money, despite working two shifts, 16 hours each day.

Then, I had a real stroke of luck.

One of my salesmen friends introduced me to a very nice young lady by the name of Tsang and we got chatting. She told me she was here in the UK to improve her English.

‘Where do you come from?' I asked her.

‘Hong Kong,' she said. ‘I've not been here long.'

‘Your English already sounds good to me,' I said encouragingly.

‘What do you do?' she asked.

‘I run a plastics factory. I made raincoats and the like.'

‘Really?' she said, her eyes widening. ‘My father runs a clothing factory in Hong Kong. He makes anything!'

Now it was my turn to feel alert. I immediately saw this could be a huge opportunity for me. If I could drastically cut my overheads by sourcing cheaper labour from abroad, I might improve the profit (or lack of profit) conundrum.

‘Would he export?' I asked. I could see Miss Tsang looked a little confused and quickly clarified. ‘Do you think he would consider manufacturing plastics products for me to sell here? We could make some sort of deal and he could ship it over.'

‘I don't know,' she said, with a shrug. To my delight though, I could tell she was taking the suggestion seriously when she added: ‘I could write and ask.'

On the birth of a theatrical dream

My property and entertainment interests finally came together in 1964, when my property group took over the famous Windmill Theatre in London. By then though, the property company in question wasn't John Laurie Ltd, because by that time that business was far behind me.

George and Eric had become visibly more nervous each property deal I suggested, so when I put one forward which needed backing to the tune of more than £1 million, they really panicked. The deal-breaker was the complete redevelopment of a site in Derby's city centre. In addition to the shops and flats that had been my bread and butter for so long, I also intended to build a huge hotel and cinema complex which would be called Superama.

‘It's just so, well, big,' George said. ‘Why don't we stick with what we all know? It's worked out pretty well so far.'

‘Stuck car lifts and wayward water courses notwithstanding,' chimed in Eric, chuckling at his own joke. ‘No seriously Laurie, I think we will be stretching our goodwill with Lloyds Bank to the limits. One million is an extraordinary sum.'

If I was disappointed, I didn't let it show. I was determined to get this project off the ground, come what may. I decided I would get the finance off my own bat and started to knock on the doors of various banks. They were all interested, not least because it was a great scheme and I had already proved I had a track record. However, they all insisted that, for a project of this scale, I would need a large proportion of the scheme pre-let before they'd chip in.

‘What do you mean by a large proportion?' I asked.

‘At least 75 per cent,' came the emphatic reply time and again.

Great. Here I was at the forefront of a huge project and I now had the unenviable task of selling my vision to dozens of big companies before I really had anything concrete to show them.

On creating a monster

When I first joined forces with Sion Poteleski, Robert Potel and Eric Roland in 1964, Star and Garter, as it was somewhat rudely known, was a tiny property company. It was hardly on anyone's radar at all, but I had big plans. By 1970, Star (Great Britain) had been renamed the English Property Corporation (EPC) and was the third largest property company in the UK. It had swallowed up three PLCs, Metropolitan and Provincial Property Group, Rodwell and Watney Mann Property Group. It had also instigated dozens of large and high profile developments in the UK, France, the USA and Canada. Everybody knew our name and our meteoric rise was much discussed and picked over in the financial press and among property circles. I was proud of what we had achieved but I was also beginning to feel deeply uncomfortable too.

There was no getting away from it, the property company had changed beyond recognition and I didn't like what it had become. Even though I was partly responsible I had deep misgivings about the impact of our growth.

Each time we had made a significant acquisition we had added new members to our board. From a time when it was a boardroom of three (Robert's father had retired), where Robert, Eric and I kicked around ideas and then instantly made a decision, we now had a top table of 23 people. Each of these senior business people naturally wanted to make their mark and wanted time to discuss and digest matters in full. In a short space of time decision-making slowed to a glacial speed and projects which relied on a nifty turnaround began to drift alarmingly.

I had been party to the creation of a monster company.

There was no easy solution either. Once people were appointed to the board, we couldn't very well demote them. They had just as much right to be there as we did.

We already had to make a number of changes to accommodate our burgeoning senior team. When I first joined Star GTR, we had a small suite of offices at 4 Curzon Place, just off the Hyde Park end of Curzon Street. Indeed, the main offices overlooked Hyde Park. Robert, who had expanded is legal practice, also used the offices for this other interest.

This location was perfect for me. I had always objected to commuting. I could walk across the park each day, to and from the office from my flat in Cumberland House, Kensington. I used to love that fifteen-minute walk. As well as clearing my head, I was presented with the daily opportunity to observe the changing seasons and enjoy one of London's finest spaces.

After a couple of years, as the company expanded, it was clear we couldn't stay in the same premises, so I found new, prestige offices at 16 Grosvenor Street, a little further North East. It was a nice enough building, with a wide entrance hall and a large car park to the rear in a mews, but it also symbolised the change we were undergoing. I now had to drive to work because it was a 30 to 40 minutes walk which was a bit too far. It wasn't a long commute by car, perhaps just ten minutes or so, but it took something away from me. The downtime in the park I had always enjoyed was gone.

Looking around me at the expanding company, I could see there were some ways we were using our resources well and some where we most certainly weren't. On the plus side, our very talented accountant David Llewellyn had instigated the installation of a huge computer in the basement. It was one of the very first computers owned by a private company in the capital and it was used very effectively to manage a database of our properties. Right then, all our rival property companies employed costly managing agents to look after their estates, but this machine made us completely independent. We saved 10 per cent gross revenue this way. This was the perfect use of Star's capital.

On the start of something special

I had a heavy heart when I followed the cast and crew to the Chelsea Rendevous restaurant in Knightsbridge. I think everyone knew this production was going to be pretty short-lived, but were trying to make the best of things. I was with one of my then girlfriends, sat around a large round table of ten, when a rather pretty brunette opposite me caught my eye. Although the restaurant was noisy and everyone seemed to be doing their best to seem upbeat. What was most noticeable about her was her delicate hands were both balled into tight fists as they rested on the table's surface and the top of her knuckles were quite white. She was clearly very tense and not at all happy to be there.

All of a sudden, she caught me looking at her and looked a little alarmed. I smiled and pointedly balled my fists up tightly and then slowly opened them and waggled my fingers as though loosening them up. Her face relaxed and she smiled. She'd got the message and slowly unfurled her fingers and gave them a little waggle too. I nodded in approval.

I felt a little frustrated. I was too far away to speak to this lovely girl, even though I very much wanted to. All I could do was listen in to snippets of conversation as she spoke to the tall man beside her. I knew him quite well, which is why he had tickets for the first night. He was a Scot called Gordon Provan who was director of one of the divisions of Rank Technical with whom I had placed some significant business over the years. From what I could pick up from my eavesdropping, this young lady worked in publishing for MacMillan and was apparently editing a children's encyclopaedia.

Brains as well as beauty,I thought approvingly, resolving that I would find a way to speak to this lady come what may. It was not to be though. Sadly, before I could open a conversation with her, Gordon whisked his companion away.

The following day I called MacMillan Books. I had managed to find out the mystery woman's name was Gillian and asked the receptionist to put me through to ‘Gillian in the children's encyclopaedia department.'

When she picked up the phone I knew straight away I had the right Gillian.

‘Oh, hello,' I began. ‘It's Laurie Marsh. We almost met last night. You didn't look like you enjoyed the show much.'

‘The man with the knuckles,' she laughed.

‘Yes, that's me. Are your hands feeling better now? I was getting worried about you.'

She laughed again. She had a nice laugh and seemed much more relaxed now.

‘Listen, I wanted to get in touch to ask if you like to come out with me?' I said. ‘How are you fixed tomorrow night?'

‘I'm playing bridge, I'm afraid,' she said.

‘How about the night after that?' I pressed.

‘I'm really sorry but I have plans for the evening too,' she answered.

Was she trying to give me the brush off, or is she genuinely busy, I wondered? There was only one way to find out.

‘OK, what about one night next week?'

‘Alright,' she said. ‘I can do that.'

I could have punched the air. I was already totally smitten by this girl. I hardly knew her and couldn't explain it, but there was something about her that I really liked. Over the next few weeks and months these feelings only grew deeper as I got to know Gillian. This woman was truly my soul mate.

About Laurie Marsh

Laurie still works every day - typically on at least 10 different projects, using his experience and influence to help as many good causes and charitable organisations as he can, from building community centres to advising the government on how to make the NHS self-sufficient. Laurie has ‘saved' more theatres than anyone is aware of (seven in London, one in Bath - Theatre Royal - and one in New York!) and is currently working on a project close to his heart, helping to save the ‘Mill at Sonning' theatre in Oxfordshire.

He has almost 50 years of experience working with charities and in the private and public sectors. He was born in 1930 in London and spent the early years of his life living in a couple of rooms above the family haberdashers in Lambeth Walk. He now lives with his wife in St John's Wood, London. Laurie was conscripted to the army during World War II. After his service he began a plastics manufacturing business and secured a license to use the likeness of Disney characters. In the same period Laurie became a director of a family property company, which was set up in partnership with West End Travel Group, Wakefield Fortune. In 1961 Laurie oversaw his first £1 million project in central Derby (eventually creating the third largest public property company in the UK). By 1970, he quit the company and by 1979 he sold his conglomerate of 10 businesses to Lew Grade, so his philanthropy could begin apace!

Category:Memoir, Business, Philanthropy

ISBN:1910692549

eISBN:9781910692547

Format:Jacketed Hardback & eBook

Available on Amazon & from all good book shops

Price:£16.99

Release Date:May 19 2016
 
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