My ability to kick a rugby ball opened a particular door. My Headmaster John Gwilliam sent me for an interview to Tilney Sing Parr and Rae,a stockbroking firm in Liverpool. The President and Chairman of one of many outstanding Rugby Clubs in the area in those days ,Birkenhead Park, conducted the interview. To my amazement rugby was the sole topic of the chat and two days later I received a letter offering me a trainee post on the princely sum of £6 10 shillings and sixpence a week. I had no idea what stockbroking was. I knew next to nothing about economics and having attended a protected elite local school my next few years were quite an experience.
Somehow through incredible luck and severe bout of flu half the office staff were absent and the markets were busy. I was sent to the local Stock Exchange floor to ‘help out’. I had to attend a vetting meeting by the Stock Exchange Council but my old boys tie did for that.
George Robinson was the head ‘dealer’. He was immaculately dressed. Spoke with a soft Liverpool accent and he no time at all for ‘public school boys’ (hissed between his teeth’. It took 3 weeks before he spoke to me ‘civilly’ but Goerge had a history in which he had twice been torpedoed in the Atlantic Ocean on convoy duty. Somehow he had survived but he was in truth emotionally scarred which supported his tendency to drink whisky-a lot when the fancy took him. Anyway after one of these bouts during an extended lunch time a load of business arrived at the desk and there was only me to transact it. The office manager told me to ‘do my best’ from his remote position in the office.
I somehow muddled through thanks to the kindness of sympathetic market operatives. They did not make it easy they just made sure I was on track. Around 3 pm George wobbled back to the floor. Totally pissed. As the market closed I gently took his arm placed his Homburg hat on his head and guided him to the railway station. I put him on the train and watched with a smile on my face as he parked his body not on an empty seat but an innocent looking woman in a floral dress. It was very funny to watch.
After this act of chivalry caused George to change his view of me and I became his prodigy. He taught me everything he knew. He cut through the dross and showed me why he was so successful as he had a formula for success. Simply put he followed around 50 quality companies. He cut out every press cutting, read every report and studiously followed their individual price movement. Overtime he saw patterns. He got to understand which company ‘told the truth’ and which didn’t. He had many clients of his own and aside from his ‘dealing’ job he made a lot of money on his commission from clients. Best of all I had a champion and as George did not have children I suspect i was rather important to him. He loved it when I told stories. I became an authorised dealer after only three months thanks to George and my progress as an all round trainee was halted. I became way more confident as realised what was happening and I let my personality out. For some reason I became known for my accents, skill I had acquired in my elocution and acting. The favourite was my Ozzie impersonations. The entire dealing team of around 25 people would often dissolve into laughter late in the day when I piped up with some colloquialism in a thick accent. I was one of the boys.
A pattern had been established which was repeated many times in my life. My own dad had, in all truth, not offered me much in terms of help and advice. For some reason throughout my life a series of male figures appeared who supported, cajoled and advised me. maybe this is a natural phenomenon.
Tales of a Life Well Lived 